The Power of the Potters
by RockIll
Summary: Complete! With a Light Lord interfering in Potter Family matters and a Dark Lord hell-bent on killing off the Potters, a cadet branch of the Potter family has to act. Armed with knowledge, Family Magik, and supported by many cousins, Harry takes Magical England by storm. Realistic characters and some bashing, HHR with less focus on pairings. Betaed by Marc the Unruly
1. Chapter 1: The Letter

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 **Author's Note** : This is a story that just _came_ to me. Harry's family and family's history rarely seem to be the focus of a story. Some use "Granny Black", Peverell, or Gryffindor to give Harry more titles so that he becomes unnaturally powerful. It is, of course, difficult dealing with more OCs and their untameable personalities (Dumbledore, Sirius, Ron, and Hermione are enough as it is!), but there is usually something missing, some historical context. I wanted it, so I wrote it :P It is possible that I missed a story that goes deeply into the Potter Family. If it's a good story, feel free to PM it to me.

I am not abandoning my other story, _One with Magic_. I just need a bit of refreshing. I will be updating _The Power of the Potters_ every other week to every third week. But, of course, having a lot of reviews, a lot of follows and favorites motivates me to write quicker!

Enough of the bla bla. Without further ado, the story.

 **Disclaimer** : I just own the characters and plot that JKR doesn't. If you notice similarities to your own story, hit me up, and let's see what happened...

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 **Chapter One: The Letter**

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Harry awoke in a cold sweat with his scream muffled by a pillow.

He didn't remember the nightmare he just escaped from, but he knew it was similar to the numerous other nightmares that had plagued him since the night of the Third Task.

A heartless - _"Kill the spare" -_ followed by Cedric Diggory's lifeless yet surprised eyes.

In some of the more vicious dreams, Cedric's corpse would turn to Harry and inquire sadly, "Why didn't you save me, Harry. I would have saved _you_!"

Harry slammed his eyes shut to prevent at least some of the tears from falling, and slowly climbed out of bed to start his day.

He had been back with his "family" at Privet Drive for a little over two weeks now. He had originally decided to do as he had planned in previous years: stay in his bedroom until he had served his annual sentence and pray that someone came soon after to release him. This summer was an interesting exception to that plan.

Hedwig gave a small snore-hoot from her perch. Today was the first day she decided to stay in. _Maybe she needs a rest from all of the letters I've been sending?_

Thankfully, the Dursleys allowed him to let her free at night and did not keep her locked up. Then again, he had had to sell himself to them this summer for that boon.

The nightmarish replays of _that_ night and the guilt of Cedric's death had pressed in on him within the walls of his room. After two hellish nights, Harry had come up with a compromise that seemed to benefit everyone. Well, everyone except him.

He would try to sleep, but usually, once he had inevitably woken up from a nightmare, he would go through the house and do all of the chores in exchange for a few boons. Something about the familiarity of the tedious and meticulous work of cleaning up after the Dursleys gave him peace. And he was, in return, allowed to eat on his own and keep his "freakishness" within the shadows of his room.

 _And they say indentured slavery was abolished._

For the first time, and out of sheer boredom, he had finished all of his summer assignments for Hogwarts and reread nearly every book in his possession. Of course, he didn't actually have too many books. _Maybe I should ask Hermione for some. She c_ _ouldn't possibly refuse to answer a request for information like_ _she's been ignoring my letters._ Nevertheless, it scared him a bit that he managed all of that in two weeks.

 _I guess sleeping only 3-4 hours a night will do that to a bloke._

Robotically, he made his way through the house. Since it was Tuesday, there wasn't much to be done. Uncle Vernon always worked late on Mondays and came home tired. Aunt Petunia made her social rounds to the other nosey ladies to gossip about what happened in the neighborhood over the weekend on Mondays. And Dudley nursed his hangover - or flu, as his parents believed. So Harry had completed the bulk of his tasks on Monday.

The sun was nowhere near close to rising, so making breakfast was out of the question.

Somehow, Harry found himself sitting underneath the slowly disappearing stars on the well-worn swings of the neighborhood park. Had any of the neighbors been awake to see him sitting in his pajamas at four o'clock in the morning with a mug of tea and a sandwich, he knew it would have only confirmed the neighborhood rumors of him not being all there.

Not that many within the wizarding world would think differently of him. Last year alone, he had been publically defamed as a liar, cheater, backstabber, attention-seeker and many other names due to his involuntary participation in the Triwizard Tournament.

He shuddered at the thought of what was currently being said or written about him in the aftermath of the Third Task with Voldemort's return and Cedric's death. He was, however, more worried about what Voldemort was up to.

His history books left little to the imagination on how bloody, vicious and terrible Voldemort's last reign of terror had been for both the wizarding and muggle worlds. There was a reason why Voldemort's name was not mentioned even after his defeat in 1981 at Harry's infant hands. Harry religiously watched the morning news for any, for the muggles, inexplicable occurrences, terrorist attacks or gas-pipe leakages (according to the historian Bathilda Bagshot, that was the Ministry of Magic's main cover-up technique during the last war).

But there was nothing, except that weird 'Boom' song from the Outhere Brothers and the exhausting heat wave.

 _Maybe he is somehow keeping the murders quiet. Maybe he's only attacking in the wizarding world... Maybe he's laying low at the moment._

Although Harry half-expected to return to a war-torn wizarding world in a few weeks, nothing scared him more than Voldemort hiding in the shadows, biding his time to make a big strike. If Fudge was still in denial, as he had been in the Hospital Wing a few weeks back, this would not bode well for the wizarding world.

He wished he had someone to tell him what was going on. After two letters to each Ron, Hermione and Sirius, and no responses, Harry had all but given up.

 ** _HOOT_**

 ** _CRUNCH_**

Harry jumped from the swing, grabbing his wand out of his back pocket. Scanning the small park with a trembling hand, he noticed, no small hint of embarrassment, the regal-looking brown owl on top of the swing-set. It bore a special protection medallion that identified all Gringott's owls.

"You didn't have to scare me like that, ruddy owl!" Harry whispered. Though the owl had startled him, he was sure there had been another crunching sound from the bushes.

Writing the sound off as a wild animal, possibly fleeing from the owl, Harry stowed his wand away and approached the pretentious owl.

With a rather impatient hoot, the owl presented its leg and its burden. It pecked Harry hard on the head as his trembling fingers pinched its brown, sensitive leg feathers before taking off the second it was released from its burden.

"Bloody menace!" Harry yelled at the bird's retreating form.

Harry took the letter in both hands and almost dropped it immediately. His loud gasp echoed eerily in the park.

Quickly, he gathered up his discarded tea mug, left the remains of his sandwich for the animals, and all but ran back to the house staring at the name on the rather heavy, official-looking letter:

 _ **Goblin Secured Post**_

 _From: Virgil Orville Potter, Head of the Australian Cadet Branch, Most Noble and Ancient House of Potter_

 _To: Henry (Harry) James Potter, Lord Apparent and Head of the Most Noble and Ancient House of Potter_

 _To Be Read Immediately_

 _Portkey Activation 10 Minutes Post-opening_

 _Self-destruct 5 Minutes Post-delivery if not opened_

He never heard the crack of apparition from the panicked Order member behind him.

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 **Many thanks to** Marc the Unruly **for bearing with me and betaing! You're the best.**


	2. Chapter 2: Welcome Home

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 **Chapter Two: Welcome Home...**

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Harry knew he was being impulsive as he sprinted towards Number 4. _Gryffindors charge forward_ , he reminded himself for the third time.

This could be his escape from the Dursleys. His moment to get away from his imprisonment. Maybe his only chance to meet _true family_.

 _But it could also be a trap._

A small shiver went down his spine as he fumbled with the keys to the house.

With a deep breath, he left the door locked and placed his finger in the space indicated on the seal. After a small prick and drop of blood - _the Goblins are so cruel_ , he thought while suckling the sore finger - he ripped the seal on the letter. A small glow was all he received as confirmation.

 _If it were a ploy from Voldemort, I would be dead already,_ he told himself with conviction.

In an opulent manor many miles away, a certain Dark Lord sneezed suddenly and promptly crucioed anyone who witnessed his spontaneous bout of weakness.

 _Here goes nothing,_ Harry thought, his stomach clenching in unease, as he began reading with an unsteady hand.

 _Heir Potter_ , the letter read,

 _I apologize for the abruptness and urgency of this letter._

 _This letter is my twelfth attempt at contacting you and/or your guardian(s) since 1985. I can only assume that you are either being held against your will or kept ignorant of your roles and rights. Thus, this blood secure letter will activate as a Portkey within 9 minutes, bringing you and your guardian(s) safely to the Potter Country Home in Melbourne, Australia._

 _Should_ _I have erred with my suspicions, a Portkey will_ _be_ _provided upon your arrival for a safe return to Potter Manor. Should you not wish to visit or arrive with the Portkey, I merely ask for a brief note in response to this letter._

 _I also beg forgiveness for my rash interference, Heir Potter. I have been following the news of your exploits through the media since your arrival (?) in 1991, and am frankly afraid for your health, the continuation of the Head Line and appalled by the disrespect being shown to the Potter name. I assume that the family solicitors contracted by my dearly departed brother, Charlus, upon receiving his Lordship, are busy at work._

 _These old eyes look forward to seeing what is left of my Charlus. And I look forward to hearing what news you can provide on the Potter Estate and Potter Holdings! Should no response come from you, I shall attempt once more by post next year, before I physically make the long trek to England._

 _With kind greetings from the outback,_

 _Your Great-Great-Uncle Virgil_

 _P.S. Your cousin (third cousin to be exact) Henriette Marie, requests that you bring your Firebolt so that she can "burn some rubber" against true competition. I ask that you keep an eye on her apparently pyromaniac inclinations._

 _P.P.S. Please maintain physical contact with everything and anyone you wish to bring with you. International Portkeys can be tricky sometimes._

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The letter made Harry blink. Twice.

 _Potter Country House? Potter Estate, Holdings?_ _What on Earth... Maybe they have me mistaken for another English wizard named Harry Potter… who receives a lot of press... who also owns a Firebolt._

He physically shook his doubt away. He suddenly wished that Hermione were here. She would know what to do.

 _This is pathetic! Can I not tie my shoes without Hermione? If she were here, she would just recommend writing a letter to Dumbledore given her reverence for authority, and that would take too long._

He took a calming breath, unlocked the front door and raced upstairs to his bedroom. He quickly placed the letter on the rickety table next to the bed and proceeded to fling everything he possessed into his trunk. Hedwig, now awake due to the racket he made, like most of the residents in the house, looked at him with big, questioning eyes.

"I'm going to see my family. I have a family, Hedwig!" He picked up her cage and twirled it lightly with Hedwig in it. "I have a family."

Hedwig merely barked unhappily at him.

"BOY!" His Uncle Vernon yelled, banging open the door to Harry's bedroom. "You'd better have a damn good reason for making all of this noise before the sun is even up!"

Rather than explaining himself, Harry grabbed the letter off of the table and pressed it into his Uncle's hands.

"Country Home... solicitors... _LORDSHIP_... Estate... _**HOLDINGS**_!" His uncle nearly choked as he stumbled over the words.

"I don't know what it means, Uncle Vernon, but I can assume that I won't be coming back to visit this summer." _Or any summer after this hopefully._

Despite the careless abandon and speed at which he was grabbing books, clothes, expired potion ingredients, etc. and throwing them into his trunk, Harry managed to see the internal struggle his uncle was having. _He would be free of me for forever, but I will seemingly enjoy the rags-to-riches story that he's always dreamed of..._

Dumbledore told him that he was safe as long as he stayed with his family. _Surely this includes my father's side of the family, right_?

His aunt sleepily entered the room as Harry was squeezing his trunk shut.

"Is this... real?" His uncle asked as he passed the letter wordlessly to his wife. "That Dumb-door character didn't mention any other Potters in his letter to us."

 _Letter? Which letter?_ Harry asked himself briefly as he locked the trunk and lured an agitated Hedwig out of her cage with treats.

"Vernon!" His aunt's gasp caught Harry's attention. The letter was emitting a light blue color.

Harry rushed forward making sure he held Hedwig's cage and grabbed the letter that his aunt had thrown on the floor out of fear.

Harry grabbed a random piece of paper and scribbled a note to Sirius and Hermione. _Gone to visit my Great Uncle Virgil. I will let you know somehow when I return._

"Hey girl, give this to Sirius or Hermione and stay with them if you want. I think I'll be too far away for you to send messages." Hedwig cocked her head to the side, took the letter in her talons, gave an intelligent hoot of understanding and flew through the window into the budding sunrise.

Harry could feel the magic of the portkey gathering around him and took a seat on his trunk with his broom, Hedwig's cage in his lap, and the letter clutched firmly in his hand.

As soon as he noticed a pull from behind his navel, Harry gripped his few worldly possessions and gave his mother's relatives a true smile.

"I wish you all a warm stay in hell. I will happily send you a bottle of water to compensate you for your _troubles_ these past 14 years."

With a flash of multicolored lights and a gust of wind, he literally left the Dursleys in his dust and also left numerous alarms going off in the empty office of a certain Headmaster currently away at a conference.

The magic of the portkey, many times stronger than his two previous experiences, grabbed not at his navel but at the entirety of his torso. The wind left his lungs in a swoosh. Try as he might, he could not catch his breath going at such a high speed. He could feel the muscles and lungs in his chest constricting in defiant protest to the asphyxiation and manhandling.

With a massive heave, the lights and magic disappeared abruptly. Air flooded his lungs after the nearly 15-second trip as he fell forward with Hedwig's cage and the letter onto the carpeted floor of an elegantly and expensively, yet overwhelmingly homely, decorated parlor.

As he attempted to catch his breath on all fours, a sun-kissed hand appeared before his face.

"Apologies for the portkey." A gravel-like voice welcomed softly. "Goblin-made portkeys are the safest, yet the Goblin magic only seems to allow Goblins to travel with them comfortably."

Harry fingered his wand in his back pocket and looked up at the man before him.

The man was definitely old enough to be a young grandfather or great-uncle. If he were a muggle, Harry would estimate him being mid-fifties. With dark gray hair, a few wrinkles and many pepper-black strands here and there, he seemed to have aged quite gracefully for a wizard. He was tall with broad shoulders that spoke of much physical activity in his youth.

Harry immediately noted similar facial features to his own and a few white scars.

With a quick movement, the man unsheathed his wand from a sleeve holder. Harry flinched from his spot on the floor and mentally prepared to cast a protego or disarming hex until he noticed the man holding both ends of the wand in his hands and presenting it in a bowing motion to Harry.

"I, Virgil Orville Potter, welcome the Heir Henry James Potter, Lord and Head Apparent of the Most Noble and Ancient House of Potter, into this his Family Home. May no harm or misdeed besmirch his visit. So mote it be." There was a faint stirring in the room as if Magik herself held her breath.

The man, his Great-Great Uncle apparently, waited a few seconds before throwing Harry an expectant look.

Harry blinked in confusion, figuring he was missing something essential. "Err. Thank you?"

The man blinked in a manner frighteningly similar to himself before Harry noticed a mixture of emotions - confusion, fury, pain and finally what might have been resignation mixed with dissatisfaction - flicker over the man's face in quick succession.

 _I haven't even been here for a full ten minutes, and I've already worn out my stay… Great_.

Surprisingly, the man smoothly set Harry on his feet and placed Harry's hands on top of his own.

"Repeat after me: I, Heir Henry James Potter, accept this warm welcome. May Magic bless and embrace this meeting of Potters and Kin." He said with a sympathetic and warm voice.

Harry did so without any hesitation and minimal stuttering. The anxiety from a possible trap left him abruptly with nothing but a weird sense of belonging and energy from the magic that slowly settled in the room.

The man smirked stowing his wand away. "Now that the stuffy procedure is out of the way-" He suddenly grabbed Harry and pulled him into a warm hug.

He then held Harry at arm's length, assessing him. "Just like my brother Charlus. That hair was cursed from the womb to the grave, I tell you."

Harry blushed to the roots of said hair.

"You are rather a quiet one. I expected at least anger, cheer, or curiosity, but not shyness." He said. He slowly let go of Harry's shoulders and, putting an arm around Harry, lead him towards the corridor.

Harry took a shuddering breath and cleared his throat. "I'm sorry, sir. This is all very shocking and a bit overwhelming for me." He managed to squeeze out.

Since they were walking in the same direction, he missed the fury that distorted the man's rather pleasant face.

"None of that 'sir' hogwash! We are _family_. The family calls me Grandpa Virgil or just Virgil, and if that makes you uncomfortable, call me Uncle Virgil like your cousins in the US and France."

Harry nearly choked on air. _More family?_

Harry nodded quickly, turning to look at the man. "Yes, si- Uncle Virgil."

"Marvelous! Having my own great-grandchildren call me Virgil makes me feel much younger than my 85 years." The man said jubilantly, his accent becoming stronger. Harry gave a small laugh, the man's joviality was pretty addicting.

 _Uncle Virgil_ stopped suddenly as soon as they reached the brilliantly lit hallway with many moving portraits and pictures.

"Ah, here it is! The most recent family photo I have of my brother, nephew, and grandnephew - your father."

Harry gazed upon the enlarged and framed picture like a wayward fish upon water. Two raven-haired men, who could have been mistaken for brothers, stood in what seemed to be a large ballroom with two gorgeous women on their left and right-hand sides respectively.

"On the left is my nephew, your grandfather Charles. If I remember correctly, Charles was freshly married to Aurora Dorea Potter née Black, the _Black Beauty_ as she was called."

Harry gazed at the woman in wonder. His grandmother was a party-stopper. She seemed to glow with a certain internal beauty and happiness. Many of the other people in the room, walked by and gazed at her. Her timeless, noble features and soft smile warmed his heart. Harry wondered briefly what her and thus his relation to Sirius was. _Why didn't he tell me that we are related? Maybe we aren't_...

"... caused a bit of a scandal in England, that did! Most of the Blacks and Potters had been on opposite sides of Grindelwald's War in the 1940s." Uncle Virgil continued with his trip down memory lane.

"On the right," he pointed then to the more elegant and aristocratic-looking man with a similarly attired blond-haired woman next to him, "is my brother Charlus and his wife Madeline Potter née Lovegood." _Where have I heard that last name before?_ He was pretty sure he heard the name at Hogwarts.

"She remains one of the most decorated Ward Researchers of the past three centuries. I believe she- Oh, I apologize. I don't want to bore you with such stories."

"NO!" Harry exclaimed loudly before he caught himself and promptly made to apologize for his impudence. "Sorry, sir- _Uncle Virgil_. Please tell me more. I've learned more in the past two minutes about my family than I have the last 14 years!"

The man looked pale and pained as he considered the implications of Harry's words. "I see."

With a deep breath to calm himself, Harry assumed, he turned back to the picture as if he had never stopped. "... Madeline Potter was a world-renowned Warder. A Goblin-Friend, Grand Sorceress and an honorary Unspeakable... all by the age of 25. She later single-handedly redesigned the warding structures and networks of all Potter houses, manors and safe-houses. They all remain impenetrable to this day." Harry noted the pride with which the man spoke of his sister-in-law with tingles all over.

 _Wait?_

He bit his lip, not wanted to interrupt the man again, but the question burned within him.

His very observant great-great-uncle noticed the look. "There is no need to be shy or ashamed to ask questions. They are essential to life, you know."

"I was just wondering how Voldemort got into the house where my parents and I were staying before… then if everything was warded."

Uncle Virgil nodded knowingly without the usual flinch at Voldemort name. Harry could see himself coming to like the man before him.

"Yes. The Family was also pretty confused by that as well. Your parents chose to stay in a house not originally owned by the Potters, and thus not rewarded by Madeline."

"Whose house was it then?" Harry was confused. Everyone said his parents died in their home.

"I believe it was a cottage owned in the 1700s by the Peverells. It was on land that had been passed on to one of the descendants of the youngest Peverell brother, the only brother to survive to his marriage, to my grandfather as dowry for my father's marriage to Iolanthe Potter neé Peverell in 1883."

Harry confusion only seemed to deepen.

"Madeline could only ward the dwellings that were owned and originally warded by Potters due to Family magic before she passed. The Peverells line, though related by marriage, was not absorbed into the Potter Line until the late 1970s when the last Peverell male descendant of the Main Line was murdered, I believe. Madeline passed beforehand in 1960 - shortly after this picture was taken in fact."

Harry nodded, completely enthralled by the story. He futilely looked at the inhabitants of the photo for a glimpse of his father.

Uncle Virgil turned back to the picture with a smirk. "Ah, and if I see correctly, in Madeline's arms is a bundle of flesh named James Hardwin Potter."

Harry jumped and peered intently at the picture to catch a glimpse of his father as a baby. And as if on cue, his father's grandmother proudly presented the baby James to the camera.

Harry couldn't help the snort that passed his lips. "He's so wrinkly!"

His great-great-uncle gave a deep belly laugh that echoed down the hall in both directions. "Your grandfather said that same, as did your great-grandfather about your grandfather. Maybe all the men of the Main Potter Line are "wrinkly" for the first few months."

"And what did your father say about my great-grandfather?" Harry chuckled, following the line of succession back another generation.

Uncle Virgil sobered immediately, looked down the hall to a grand and elaborate portrait of a very stern looking ancestor and signed deeply. "My father is a story for another time."

Harry was disappointed and felt miserable for ruining the moment. "I'm sorry." _Change the discussion topic, change the topic!_ "What happened to everyone in the picture?"

The pained looked that crossed Uncle Virgil's face made Harry immediately regret his choice of topic choice. _Bugger, can't I say anything right?_

"Charlus and Madeline passed much too early in 1960. Their deaths were unexpected and remain a mystery to this day. Charles and Aurora were murdered by Lord Voldemort's wand nearly 20 years afterward." Virgil paused. "Your parents followed nearly 2 years later in 1981. You're all that's left of the Family in England."

A pain like nothing else Harry had ever experienced tugged at his heart. Voldemort had stolen his chance to have a picture like the one on the wall, to have a mother and father or grandparents as he grew up, to have a family…

"So that's why?" He asked himself.

"Pardon, my boy?"

Harry swallowed a lump in his throat. "So that's why I was left with my Aunt and Uncle? Because Voldemort has killed off the rest of my family in England?"

Sharp eyes bore into Harry's slightly wet ones. "Aunt and Uncle? I was unaware of any other children from Charles."

Harry wiped his eyes quickly with his shirtsleeves. "No, my mother's sister and her husband. I was apparently left like unwanted milk on their doorstep in November _that year_."

The arm that had been wrapped around his shoulders and comforting him since he left the parlor tightened suddenly and painfully.

"But your mother was a first-gen! Your aunt and uncle must be non-mags then! Otherwise, we would have heard from them and you much earlier... Every Heir is to be raised in our world! That would have been stipulated by your parents will!" The man ranted to himself.

"Sorry, non-mag? First-gen?" Harry asked timidly, a bit taken aback by the man's rage.

A few calming breaths later, Uncle Virgil gentle steered Harry away from the picture, in the direction opposite of his father's stern and piercing gaze.

"First-generation or "first-gen" witch or wizard is what I believe the British still racistly refer to as "muggleborns" and their non-magical or "non-mag" counterparts as "muggles". Most of the world has tabooed the terms as discriminatory, especially in communities like ours where the two worlds mix and mingle frequently."

Harry nearly stopped walking in shock. "B-but, the International Statute-"

"The International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy, which our ancestor," he pointed to a large portrait of a gentle yet proud looking man down the hall and next to the portrait of Virgil's father, "Ralston Potter I championed in the late 17th century, only applies now to certain communities and countries. Australia, many Asian and African nations, and some parts of the States have blanket laws of magically-bound discretion."

Harry nodded in the right places, somewhat distracted by the amount of noise coming from behind the door they were standing in front of.

Uncle Virgil gave a slightly lopsided grin that would have surely looked out of place on the face of an older man were it not for his Potter genes. "Everyone is very excited to meet you. I'm surprised they haven't burst through the door."

A slight nervousness settled in Harry's stomach.

 _What if they don't like me? What if they are like the Dursleys? What_ …

He didn't get the opportunity worry further. The door was thrown open by a small, smartly dressed girl with blond curls and Harry's nose who stared at Harry for a moment, cocked her head to the side and yelled over her shoulder into the room.

"HE IS HERE! I told you, John! I told him, didn't I, mum?"

With a swing of her hair, she turned back to Harry and curtsied. "My Lord, it is a pleasure to meet you finally. I'm Jasmine Potter. My parents are Michael Bryant and Quinn Potter. My Potter grandparents are Andrew Edgar and Sarah Parker Potter. My favorite colors are blue, silver-."

"Jasmine!" Called a woman from within the room behind the talkative child. "Let poor Henry breathe."

The blonde rolled her eyes and grabbed her great-grandfather's hand in her own tiny one before Uncle Virgil guided Harry and Jasmine into the room.

Before he could wrap his mind around the numerous people looking around each other to get a better glimpse of him, he tried to drink in the large, richly decorated, pentagon-shaped dining hall. The entire Dursley house and garden could fit in the room with space to spare. What caught Harry's attention immediately, however, was not the size, the white marble floor lined with gold, the satin tablecloths or the delicious looking meal already prepared, but the four transparent charmed walls and ceiling. Were it not for the floor, Harry would have thought he was outside on an expensive gazebo.

 _Absolutely gorgeous._

Uncle Virgil called out suddenly into the room, "Presenting our Lord Henry James Potter, Lord Apparent, and Head of the Most Noble and Ancient House of Potter. Blessed be his stay and warm his welcome."

As one, most of the room bowed or curtsied to some degree. A few people merely nodded at him.

Harry looked out up the room full of people, most with some physical similarity to him, faintly but still present.

"Er. Hi?"

He smiled sheepishly as a few people giggled and gasped, and Uncle Virgil slapped his hand to his forehead.

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 **Betaed by** Marc the Unruly


	3. Chapter 3: Potter Drama

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 **Chapter Three: Potter Drama**

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Harry let the comfortable hum from the numerous, simultaneous conversations wash over him. Though each roundtable had an interesting and merry discussion going on, people seemed to migrate constantly and keep their conversations going at a reasonable volume.

Little Jasmine had practically attached herself to his hip since his faux pas following Uncle Virgil's introduction. She steered him like a trained hostess from group to group of his extended family.

Harry met Uncle Virgil's three remaining sons, their 11 children and 11, soon to be 12, grandchildren. Five of his cousins were around his age, including a set of triplets with an interesting mixture of Indian and Potter features. The girls - Mari, Adna, and Maya - reminded him strongly of the Patil twins from Hogwarts: identically beautiful but with completely different personalities. Mari was cheerful and bubbly, Adna stuffy and formal and Maya very shy.

With Jasmine's tiny hand in his, Harry felt more confident as time went by, and he made his rounds from table to table. He knew he would not remember all of the nearly thirty faces, names, familial connections, and jobs, but he also knew he'd never be able to thank little Jasmine enough for her help.

Though his introduction had been disappointing, most of the family members showed some level of understanding and sympathy for his situation. He quickly found out that his 10-years-older, second cousin Garvan Arnold Potter disliked him immensely and took to making not so subtle jabs at everything from Harry's appearance, his publicity, his lack of magical theory knowledge, and for not following proper protocol with the Family.

Jasmine shut the mousy man down with an innocent reminder of Uncle Virgil's earlier explanation that Harry had not been raised "the Potter Way" to "Potter Standards", declared that the matter would be resolved, and requested that no one should blame Harry as he was the victim of the nearly criminal negligence.

 _If only they knew the half of it,_ Harry considered the consequences of them knowing even some of what he went through with the Dursleys as he helped himself to another sandwich.

Uncle Virgil looked just about ready to commit homicide due to the numerous inquiries he seemed to be fielding over the course of the luncheon. _I don't think I should burden them with my miserable life story,_ he thought with conviction and decided not reveal anything to the family.

"So this is the long-awaited Lord Potter." Harry looked up with a full mouth from his small break from the socializing to a sneering teenager with blond hair and a bulbous nose. Were it not for the sneer the guy could have passed as somewhat handsome. The sneer was one, Harry reckoned, Malfoy and Snape would have killed to pull off successfully.

Harry quickly looked for his little helper, only to find her not in the chair next to him, where she had been when he picked up his freckle sandwich just moments ago.

Pretty sure he had not been introduced to this family member yet, he swallowed as much as he could of his sandwich, wiped his hand on his pants leg and held it out to the guy only to receive a disgusted snort in return.

"When Great-Grandfather said you weren't raised to Potter Standards, I did not realize he meant as a _barbarian_." The blonde's words were greeted with snickers from two other family members near them, one of whom was the dreadful Garvan. "We use napkins to wipe off our hands, _my Lord_." He snarked.

Harry bit back his retort and dropped his hand with an angry flourish. He didn't want any more enemies especially not among his newly found family, but he couldn't understand the guy's problem.

"But with those rags," he pointed at Harry's clothes, "wiping your hands on one of the fine napkins would probably be considered an insult."

This time quite a few people rolled their eyes or had to cough to hide their snorts.

Harry had nearly melted into his chair, embarrassed and ashamed. Years of abuse from the Dursleys and years of overexposure in the Wizarding world had left his confidence and self-esteem in shatters.

Yet, a small flame of righteous anger steadily began growing in his belly.

Harry had never asked to be left with the Dursleys, to be a hero to a hero-hungry population of wizards, to lose his parents to a monster, and he definitely hadn't asked or wanted to be clothed in too large hand-me-downs. He would have loved to grow up with a loving family, healthy meals and good clothes like the Potters around him, but for some reason he had been denied the chance.

His anger evolved into fury.

As more laughter reached his ears, Harry had finally had enough. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize that we have a dress code for family gatherings. I will remember for next time." Harry smiled pleasantly, priding himself on channeling his temper into sarcasm, despite the headache he could feel coming. "I, personally, prefer to measure people by their character, their words, and actions, not by where they wipe their fingers or by the quality of their clothes."

The tension visibly spiked in the room. Garvan and the other accomplice had taken one look into Harry's angry eyes and quickly retreated with slightly respectable nods.

The now lone blond narrowed his eyes contemptuously but seemed somewhat worried for some reason.

"Wise words, _my Lord_. Hopefully, we can convince you to… reconsider the manner you present yourself and represent the Family. I will happily offer my assistance." He sniffed and marched over to the other side of the silent room.

 _An insult wrapped in faux altruism, Snape would give him 10 points._

Harry spent the next few moments reigning in his temper and hoping no-one bothered him in the meantime. _I wonder if he's related to Malfoy. Oh bloody hell, I wonder if_ I'm _related to Malfoy!_

He quickly looked for the blond and his parents to see if they bore any resemblance to the stuck up Malfoys.

"Ignore him. Jonas' just jealous that he has little to no chance of becoming Lord Potter, either from Lineage or from the Family Magik." A beautiful raven-haired girl said suddenly taking the seat next to him.

Just like with every other blood relation in the room, Harry could somehow _sense_ that she was a relative, albeit a somewhat distant one. It was a delightfully warm feeling he wouldn't give up for anything in the world.

The girl looked very similar to him: slim, the same eyebrows, and approximately the same age. _This is how I would look as a girl, raised with familial love, loads of healthy food and sunshine._

Harry found himself suddenly jealous of the girl for no real reason.

Cued by Harry's puzzled expression, she snatched the last sandwich on Harry's plate and explained. "Right, you don't know anything." Harry once again swallowed an angry retort. He hated being considered stupid.

"You are the last descendant of the Main Potter Line. Should you be unable to take up or carry out the duties of Lord Potter, the title of Lord Regnant falls to the designate of your Final Testament, _if_ agreed upon by a majority of Heads of the Potter Family. If you don't have a will, or if the Heads can't come to an agreement, the Head of the Eldest Line becomes Regnant while the Family Magik chooses the next Lord Potter. Since Virgil is the fourth brother, Uncle PH and then Uncle Lester would become Regnant, followed by Virgil. Then come their sisters followed by the sons and daughters of the heads, grandsons, and granddaughters etc... Jonas is 35th or so in the Line of Succession."

She took a huge bite of _his_ sandwich, and Harry felt his eye twitch twice at the injustice of it all.

"What if I don't want to be Lord Potter? Do I get a choice in this at all?" Harry said, already upset by not having a say in his own life and by the girl's invasive ways.

The sandwich fell from her hands to the table with a loud plop as she stared at him with a mixture of shock and rage. Harry realized suddenly that he might have pressed the wrong button.

"Apologies, your royalness! How dare we ask you to give up your precious, _scarry_ fame to take up the lowly position as Head of our Family!" She growled with narrowed ocean blue eyes.

Harry could only stammer out a reply. "T-That's not what I said!" _But what I said could be misinterpreted as she just did_ , a random, logical voice said from the back of his mind.

"No, I heard you correctly." She said standing up furiously. "Being the Lord and Protector of the Potter Family is not about attending social events and giving interviews. It's about taking care of the affairs of the Family, ensuring the well-being of current and future generations. It is an honor and privilege to be Lord Potter. How dare you relegate it to the position of a menial chore! HOW DARE YOU!"

Harry was surprised by the passionate speech, but he was stunned senseless by the sudden and hard slap that made his glasses skid across the table.

"I had hoped that the negligence and lack of upbringing could be remedied. I hoped that the British newspapers were not accurate with their subtle portrayals of you as an attention-seeking brat. I hoped that you would be happy to break away from whomever, we assume, is controlling and hiding you from your own family. I thought you'd be humble and respectful, and make the family strong again... I am disappointed."

She turned heel and stormed out of the quite quiet room. Her furious words and magic lingered in the air.

Harry stared at her aghast and confused. He hadn't said any of that. _Where the hell did that come from?_

A hand on his shoulder jolted Harry out of his stunned reverie. "Go after her. I have never seen her this upset before." Uncle Virgil said in a dry and stern voice.

"Sir! I promise I didn't mean it like - I mean, I just want to-."

Harry was interrupted by an impatient hand.

"Regardless of your intentions, you and Henriette will have to discuss it."

Harry nodded quickly and made to follow her when he realized a major flaw. "But I don't know where she went," he murmured, eyes downcast.

Uncle Virgil's eyes narrowed, but anyone could tell that the furious look wasn't truly directed at Harry. "Follow the feel of her magic." He said through clenched teeth.

Harry didn't bother responding or asking for clarification. He quickly grabbed his glasses from the table and fled from the tense room.

After a few moments of silence, a soft voice rang through the room. "Do you think it wise to send the boy after her, grandfather? I have never seen her like this." A woman who could only be Henriette's mother said approaching Virgil. "She has looked forward to meeting him since she learned that he was her namesake, but I fear she might tear him to shreds before he can even speak to her."

"Possibly. Henriette is sometimes uncouth, hot-headed and cruelly direct, but I believe that she might be the one to open his eyes and make him a suitable, even remarkable, Lord Potter. With a Light Lord interfering in Potter Family Matters, and, if the rumors are to be believed, the return of a Dark Lord who seems hell-bent on killing off as many Potters as he can, we will need him mentally, physically and magically strong."

This seemed to upset more than a few Potters in the room.

"A neglected and uneducated Lord Potter and temperamental Henriette Potter at the helm of the Potter Family's future? Merlin help us all." A grim-faced, bald-headed Daniel Norman Potter, Virgil's second-born said helplessly from the back of the room.

"Yet, we all felt how strong the Potter Magik is within him, Papa." Virgil's redheaded granddaughter, Sarah Marie Andersson, née Potter, Daniel Potter's eldest daughter, said with a slight accent from the same area of the room. "I doubt he realized that he was tapping into the Family Magik to keep us all from approaching him."

"Indeed." Virgil paused to rub his temples. That had given even him a headache when he tried to get to the boy and tell him what he was doing. "The only person who could overcome the repulsion was our little Henriette."

"Yet, it was not only the Family Magik pulsating through the room. Jonas quite thoroughly provoked young Henry into showing his aura with his nonsense." Orville Jonas Potter, Daniel Potter's eldest son said cuffing his only son, Jonas, upside the head rather abruptly.

Ignoring his great grandson's feeble apologies to his father, Virgil Orville could only sigh as the wards registered a rather violent burst of magic near the Quidditch pitch. He prayed to any free deities that this episode of Potter Family drama ended on a light note.

"We will all have to pull our weight and restore the Family to its previous strength. We should hold a Fireside tonight, begin educating our Lord Potter, and pray we have enough time to correct the injustices inflicted upon our House."

This ignited a burst of conversation on what was known, what information was missing and what was obviously falsified about the Heir Potter. At the end of the first hour, it was pretty clear to all that a Fireside chat was needed.

The chat had been previously used by Potter Lords, Heads and Elders to transparently discuss Family matters, crimes against or committed by Potters and sometimes for impromptu Family Gatherings just to share news and stories. The last one had been called in the 1700s when the son of one of their ancestors killed a distant Potter relative so that the Potters could lay claim as the sole Heirs of Gryffindor. Family Magik usually facilitated by invoking a truth spell that loosened the tongue, comforted the speakers, ensuring that only the truth was spoken, and removed or slowed any external factors - including time.

A plan was devised by two of Virgil's sons to get young Henry to declare a Fireside where he would reveal all that he could about his life. Virgil and his level-headed son, Franklin Cecil, both doubted that such a manipulation would go over well. Virgil feared Henry would become defensive and ask to be sent back… _which most likely would destroy the family._

He voiced his concerns, brought the matter to a vote - where it was vetoed - and asked for other suggestions.

Virgil and the rest of his family were surprised nearly three hours later as a wind-swept and completely exhausted pair of raven-haired teenagers walked cheerfully back into the room. He felt his heart leap happily in his chest as the two chatted and laughed like long lost siblings. The brooms hung loosely over their shoulders were evidence of their activities the past few hours.

"Dear Merlin! Papa was right." Daniel sighed, playfully banging his head on the table while his wife patted his shoulders sympathetically. "They are like-."

"... like two kneazles of the same litter." Virgil finished happily for his son. The future suddenly looked bright for the Potters.

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 **Betaed by** Marc the Unruly


	4. Chapter 4: The Coup

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 **Chapter Four: The Coup**

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Dumbledore slowly removed his half-moon glasses and pinched the bridge of his 144-year-old nose.

For the first time in many years, he truly felt as old as he biologically was. Not only did Harry Potter manage to disappear into thin air nearly two weeks ago, Dumbledore had no way of tracking, monitoring or returning him to the safety of his family.

 _His mother's family_ , he corrected himself viciously.

His understanding of the history of the Most Noble and Most Ancient House of Potter was that the Cadet Branches never interfered in the actions of the Head Branch, for fear of excommunication and financial estrangement. _At least, that was the relationship of most Noble and Ancient Houses with foreign branches._

"Can nothing be done to find the poor boy?" Asked a tearful Molly Weasley over the bickering and murmuring. She and her family had been deeply devastated by Harry's disappearance. "Who knows what those Dark wizards will do to him!"

Severus snorted loudly from across the table. "You obviously do not know much of the Potter Family's history. 'Dark wizards' indeed!"

Dumbledore's eyebrows disappeared in his hairline. _Since when was Severus interested in the Potter Family history? Maybe he researched the family to better know his enemy, James Potter._

"And _you_ know?" Sirius snarled at the greasy-haired man from the other head of the table - which was, Dumbledore subconsciously noted, his rightful position as Head (if not Lord Apparent) of House Black in his own Family Manor.

Sirius turned to Molly with slightly narrowed eyes. "And how dare you even insinuate that the Potters were anything other than Light witches and wizards!"

"Much like the Blacks were anything other than Dark?" Molly smoothly rebutted.

There was a loud intake of breath by many at the table. Sirius sat back as if physically struck by Molly's words. Dumbledore knew that many members had had difficulty accepting Sirius' innocence since, and especially if, they still carried the age-old prejudices about the House of Black. He could feel the antagonistic murmurs reviving up again as the tension at the table peaked.

"No family, of _noble_ blood or ignoble, is all of _one_ thing or another. The world is not divided between Black or Potter, Dark or Light, bad or good." Severus said in his most reasonable, albeit condescending tone. Albus nodded mentally, but as he made to speak, Severus continued. "Any _educated_ reading of the Potter Family history shows that their family did not hold to such idiotic beliefs. The Potters were and are a Grey family, intermarried with those who were magically powerful regardless of whether they considered themselves Light, Grey, Dark or smart enough not to throw themselves in a box."

Albus nearly couldn't hold back the chuckle at the dumbfounded looks around the table. From the rather brilliantly delivered explanation or at Severus' roundabout way of complimenting the Potters, he wasn't sure. Molly, however, had turned redder than her husband's hair at the belittlement.

Grey Families were a thing of the past figuratively speaking. With the last two wizarding wars, most of the original Grey families declared themselves Light, Dark or Neutral to avoid persecution for their mixed allegiances. The Grey was scorned and tabooed in Europe for being opportunists.

"Now, now, Severus. Hundreds of years of Dark magic being used to harm others is hard for some people to look past," Dumbledore said, placing his glasses back on. "The history of the extended Potter family is... troubling at many points, but they have remained consistent and balanced." _Whatever that even means._

"Grey?" Minerva murmured. "Charles and James were definitely Light. Lily was-"

"Lily was just like my Aunt Dorea Potter, née Black, James' mother: Grey to Dark Grey." Sirius murmured as if disappointed.

"And yet, it was her _Grey to Dark Grey_ magic that kept your precious godson alive!" Severus thundered, his magic causing black sparks to fly within the room. His defense of Lily Potter took many aback.

Sirius winced and stared despondently at his hands. Remus patted him comfortingly on the shoulder.

"Albus?" Minerva asked almost pleadingly after a moment of silence. Her face was pale, as if the foundation of her beliefs, or at least her exaltation of the deceased Potters, had crumbled.

Dumbledore's mind sped at a frightening pace through multiple scenarios depending on his response to this sensitive inquiry. He decided that no matter how he answered, someone would get upset. _Better to change the topic._

"Despite what we _believe_ to know of the intermediate Potter family, we do not know the intentions and affiliations of Virgil Potter, who has quite suddenly and without warning removed young Harry from our care. It is _imperative_ that we bring Harry back under the protection of the blood wards as soon as possible."

Seeing multiple affirmative nods, Dumbledore pushed forward with the rest of the night's agenda with all of the energy of a conductor through a difficult musical piece with one vital instrument missing.

It was two hours, and much discussion, later that Dumbledore ended the meeting with a heavy sigh.

Tom was currently, unnaturally quiet, the Ministry in denial and the person destined to keep the Dark from reigning over Britain was missing.

It was at times like these where he wished he could switch places with his older brother Aberforth and merely work behind a bar. He quickly thanked everyone for their hard work and excused himself.

While hurrying to see whether the silver instruments in his office were finally able to locate Harry, Dumbledore completely missed the conspiratorial glance that passed between a stoic-looking Sirius Black, an exhausted Remus Lupin, a surprisingly furious Bill Weasley and a smug Severus Snape.

The four moved as one towards the kitchen door as if of the same mind. Their collective escape from the room was rendered impossible by a small commotion.

The sudden appearance of a large lynx Patronus startled everyone still in the kitchen. Kingsley's booming voice spoke as if rushed, "Dementors at Privet Drive. Potter's family has been Kissed. Blood wards are down."

Sirius and Remus stared at one another. "Dementors?" Snape turned to the shadows, conjured parchment, and a pencil, before scratching something quickly and away from curious eyes.

"That poor boy!" Molly cried into the chest of her husband. There was a hectic bustle as Dumbledore was informed and started an impromptu second round of the meeting.

"Poor indeed." Snape murmured as slipped past Remus on his way out the kitchen. His theatrically flapping robes allowing him to slip his note to Remus unnoticed by anyone.

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 **Betaed by** Marc the Unruly


	5. Chapter 5: Changing Britain Part 1

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 **Chapter Five: When the Potters Changed Magical Britain Part 1**

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Dumbledore heaved a sigh that seemed to resonate through his entire office. Fawkes gave a comforting croon from his perch, but it did little to help Dumbledore. He threw the appropriate amount of Floo powder into the fireplace and stepped through to the atrium of the Ministry.

Harry's trial before the entire Wizengamot had been re-confirmed by a member of the Houses partaking in the trial, who was also an old acquaintance of his.

He hurried through the wand check and then through the familiar corridors of the Ministry of Magic, barely noting the whispers and the not so respectful gestures.

 _If Harry had only talked to me before he charged off to Australia… How did the letter even get through wards? Once he comes back to Britain, I will have to re-ward Grimmauld Place. Maybe mentioning his relation to Sirius would guarantee his cooperation until school begins again._

Dumbledore's musings and progress through the Ministry were interrupted and halted by a Ministry owl bearing a letter and screeching as it tried to catch up with him. With a sigh, Dumbledore changed his route. The letter stated the new time for the trial and its relocation from Madame Hopkin's office to Courtroom Ten, which he hadn't seen the interior of since the last of the Death Eater trials shortly after Harry vanquished Tom.

He quickly sent a Patronus message to Kingsley Shacklebolt to make his way to the courtroom, in case his and Nymphadora Tonks' word as witnesses were needed.

It was a slightly flustered and out of breath Dumbledore who opened the door to the courtroom, noting with a twinge of worry that the trial had already begun.

 _Dear Merlin, they will try him in absentia!._

"Defense for the accused, Albus Wulfric Percival Brian Dumbledore. Unfortunately, I just now received a notice regarding the change in venue and time-"

"Ah, and to the rescue at the last minute." A strong but young voice called from near the Accused Chair. Dumbledore spotted two figures standing by the chair but could not see the faces. "Thank you for joining us, Headmaster Dumbledore, but your services are not needed."

The figure then turned his attention to the judging body, ignoring Dumbledore's presence like one would an unnecessary pawn upon a chess board.

" _Selected_ members of the esteemed Wizengamot, I must beg your pardon on behalf of my client, but the grounds and evidence upon which this trial is based are not substantial enough for a trial of this size and magnitude-." The silken voice of the second figure was cut off rudely by the croak-like cough of the Minister's Undersecretary, Dolores Umbridge.

"I beg _your_ pardon, Solicitor Wells, but the evidence is quite clear that your _client_ unlawfully used two spells in the vicinity of muggles. Students usually learn the consequences of such transgressions by the end of their first year. As such, I motion to have the objection overturned."

A nod from Minister Fudge overruled the well-known solicitor's objection.

Dumbledore's stomach clenched uncomfortably as his mind quickly analyzed the situation from more perspectives than the human brain should be possible of.

"Thank you, Madame. Your assessment of the circumstantial evidence will be revisited later on." The second figure said with a pretty vicious smile. Dumbledore wondered what the solicitors had up their sleeves.

"Since I, Henry James Potter, stand accused. I offer my side of the story." _Harry?_ Dumbledore wondered baffled. _The first figure is Harry? How…_

Dumbledore's contemplation ended with the end of Harry's dramatic pause.

"I received the letter of my eminent expulsion while managing Potter Family Matters with the Head of the Australian Cadet Branch of the Most Noble and Ancient House of Potter. This is evidenced by the international portkeys of my trip there and back." He gestured to his solicitor, who made copies of the documentation. Dumbledore noted the creation of three times as many copies as necessary as he took an empty seat.

 _Clever boy, not to cast the spell himself. Fudge would only trump up charges._

"Impossible! You are but a halfbl- a boy! You cannot be Lord of a _House_." Umbridge snarled nearly foaming at the mouth. "This documentation means nothing!" She said grabbing the documents nearest her and setting these alight with a vindictive smile.

With a calm smile, Harry narrowed his eyes at the woman. "Woman! I am Henry James Potter, _the_ Potter, Lord and Head of the Most Noble and Ancient House of Potter. You dare question the will of my Family's Magik, sprat!" The room seemed to swell with magic at his nearly whispered proclamation.

Umbridge squeaked and paled. Such a solecism against an Olde House would usually flatten a minor House, such as hers, in fines and blood feuds. Some of the members of the hand-picked jury began looking quite uncomfortable, even Fudge shifted his seat slightly away from the woman.

"I shall deal with your offense later," Harry said in such a deadly calm manner that Dumbledore almost fell victim to the belief that Harry practiced Occlumency. "As Lord Potter, I willing state that numerous grievances and crimes committed against my House have forced me to take the helm prematurely."

"Due to the suspicious nature of the crimes committed, House Potter demands retribution!"

As if rehearsed, a loud boom echoed through the courtroom at the end of his exclamation. Three of the other entrances to the chamber slammed open and, if Dumbledore counted correctly, the entirety of the Wizengamot poured in elegantly but swiftly.

"A-a full meeting. Weatherby, was a meeting scheduled for today?" A sickly looking Cornelius Fudge stammered inconsolably.

Fudge's assistant and court scribe, Percy Weasley, quickly and futilely looked through a quite large and precariously stacked mountain of parchment.

"You didn't think you could try a House Lord with only your _endorsers_ and supportive quarter of the Wizengamot, did you Minister?" Harry gave a small, mocking laugh. "Even a first-year student under Binns' tutelage would be able to tell you that is foolhardy."

A small chatter rose as the rest of the Wizengamot settled in their seats and laughed at Harry's joke. Fudge blushed and shrank in his seat.

A clearly bemused Harry turned his back fully to the members aligned with Fudge on the Prosecutor Podium, a clear affront to their position, power and significance. Dumbledore noted breathlessly that the entire Wizengamot of members richer, decades older, learned and more respected than any others in the land - and definitely more so than the young Harry - went silent instantly due to either Harry's individual fame, his Family's prestige or the aura he emitted. Dumbledore's mind suddenly recalled Harry's grandfather, Charles Potter.

"Honorable and esteemed fellow members of this glorious and centuries-wise body, I ask your forgiveness for my last minute call-to-action, but House Potter has been grievously discredited, mishandled and falsely incriminated for too long. Her Magik weeps within my veins with the injustice. WE DEMAND JUSTICE!" Harry thundered.

Dumbledore nearly fainted on the spot. As if to emphasize the truth of his argument, Harry had released Family Magik into the room, tinged with pain and suffering. The invisible shockwave of magic caused many members to sit up in their chairs _. How in Merlin's beard is this possible?_

"Dear Sweet Morgana, we've awakened another Potter Dragon." The venerable Lady Cassiopeia Black murmured from a few seats over from Dumbledore.

"Lord Potter, what is your grievance?" The newly inducted Chief Witch Lady Marchbanks asked with a strong voice. Dumbledore doubted he could have mustered a similarly powerful voice in the face of such an accusation. Such a plea had not been brought before the body in quite some time, and not in living memory with such conviction.

"House Potter has been misrepresented in this body by stewards not appointed by Us for nearly 15 years, all while I, then Lord Apparent and Heir Potter, was raised ignorant of the Ways expected of the Potters." The buzzing of questions and angry commentary arose like a wave of angry bees.

Dumbledore felt sweat gather on his brow. _He knows..._

"NOT ONE," Harry thundered, effectively ending the side chatter as if with a Vanishing spell. "Not one brother or sister House questioned my ignorance or reached out to offer a semblance of assistance. Where were my oath-bound brother and sister Houses; where were you, their Lords and Ladies, when House Potter needed you?" He growled out the last bit, every bit the lion and dragon on his Family Emblem.

A thoroughly flustered Percy Weasley shot off a small sound with his wand, showing that he needed a moment for his recording quill to catch up. He received a patient nod from Harry who chatted briefly with Solicitor Wells in the meantime.

Quite a few members looked chastised, yet also relieved by the court scribe's interruption, as Dumbledore felt.

"Spanked like a bunch of naughty toddlers… I foresee much groveling after this meeting." Lady Black prophesied in astounded approval.

"As touching as his sob story is, he will not leave this room unless bound in chains as the criminal he is." Lucius Malfoy declared hotly. Several of his usual lackeys nodded along in agreement.

Lady Black chortled nastily. "Yet, you witness, as do we all, the Wizengamot swinging to his tune and hanging on his every word like tamed Hippogriffs. You, Lucius, bet on the wrong Pegasus _and_ poked the wrong dragon. House Black, a sibling House to House Potter, through recent marriage, shall throw their lot in properly."

Heads turned to her, baffled. "Surely you jest, Lady Black." Lord Crabbe whispered cryptically and furiously as if trying to keep Dumbledore and the Minister's staff from hearing. "The winds are beginning to blow and shadows speak of reawakening the _cause_ for which House Black sacrificed its sons and daughters not many years ago."

With an elegant huff, the grey-haired Lady Black countered, "A tragic sacrifice that destroyed my House and nearly robbed it of _worthy_ Heirs. The most powerful, worthy and sane of which stands before us… and he appears ready to continue now that the useless blood traitor of a court scribe has caught up, so please show some respect."

Her praise and acknowledgment of Harry as a Black Heir took most in earshot, even Dumbledore, by surprise. By publicly declaring him a worthy Heir, she had ultimately named him a Lord Apparent. With _Toujours Pur_ as their House motto, and due to the number of disowned half-bloods, squibs and "blood traitors" only well-bred pure-blooded Blacks were considered worthy. Harry Potter was the very opposite.

Her slighting of Lucius' son, Draco Malfoy, also a Black Heir, did not go unnoticed, judging by the look on Lucius Malfoy's face and tightening of his hand on his cane. It was only the subtle and questioning look sent by Minister Fudge that prevented a potentially violent and politically disastrous outburst.

"And while learning of this atrocity with the help of the Head of a foreign, _Cadet_ Branch of House Potter," loud intakes of breath met his statement, such was unheard of, "there was a dastardly and fatal attack on my custodial family, the muggle family of my mother also under the protection of House Potter as declared by my dearly departed father some twenty years ago."

The silence was truly impressive. Dumbledore found himself, for once, wishing to be on the other side of the podium. The energy in the room and captivated audience were what had originally attracted him to politics.

"This attack," Harry seemed in his element. He paced and gestured to his solicitor, who removed a piece of copy parchment and duplicated it, "made by soul-hungry Dementors who Kissed on sight, was ordered by someone in this very room." Everyone held their breath.

Harry turned slightly to look over the shoulder. " _Now_ , you may speak, Madam Umbridge."

There was a hum of startled murmuring.

"YOU FOUL, LITTLE BRAT! How _dare_ you make such false accusations to weasel your way out of trouble!"

Harry slammed his hand onto the shackled chair before him. "So this is not your signature - written as mandated by laws of your creation under careful instruction by our honorable Minister - by means of a Blood Quill, releasing two Dementors from Azkaban to an address, my and my mother's family's former address, previously known only to two people in this room, the Minister and Headmaster Dumbledore?"

"Merlin's beard! Dolores?" Minister Fudge said aghast as he received a copy of the document.

"This- THIS IS A FAKE!" Umbridge was puce with rage, fear and possibly embarrassment at getting caught.

"A simple revealing spell should be enough," Harry said to the Chief Witch who did just that and accepted the evidence with a nod. "Sloppy work, Madam Umbridge. Next time, be sure to destroy not only the original documents but also the authorized copy in the Hall of Records." He chided with a cluck of his tongue.

"So while House Potter is being vilified in the press as part of Minister Fudge's smear campaign to protect his political career and redirect attention from his own negligence, childish denial and misdeeds, his Undersecretary conspired – whether with or without Fudge's authorization is yet to be seen - to destroy House Potter and its Lord Potter in one sweep and with two Dementors."

The pressure of magic within the room built with every word. Even the flames in the torches on the wall grew more ominous. Dumbledore's wand hand trembled in fearful anticipation. The last time he felt so much repressed rage, he had been sparing wand to wand with Tom Riddle. _Dear Merlin, let me be wrong in my assumption that Voldemort can control the boy._

"Not only am I, Lord Potter, being falsely accused of casting not one, but TWO _different_ Patronuses simultaneously, which would be an amazing magical phenomenon especially from halfway across the globe," a gesture to his solicitor had the official notification from the Office of Misuse of Magic and other copies of the documentation of his international portkeys disseminated to the Wizengamot.

"No, that was not enough." Harry waved an arm at the group of members seated behind him with his back still to them. "I, _Lord_ Potter, was dragged before Minister Fudge's group of paid and pompous lackeys, blackmailed victims and notorious aye-sayers LIKE A COMMON **CRIMINAL**!"

Dumbledore fingered his wand worried by the spike in magic. Lady Black, completely ignoring Harry's insult, silently clapped her hands like an excited baby. Fudge, Umbridge, and their followers looked very worried by the hissing made by the other members of the Wizengamot.

And, as if someone had suddenly popped a balloon, the magical pressure within the room was suddenly released. Several people loudly exhaled in relief.

"Well, Minister Fudge," Harry calmly continued, "if you wish to treat me as a criminal, and offer no other seating accommodations for my _trial_ , I am obliged to accept until my innocence is proven." Harry nodded to his solicitor and faced the pale faces of his accusers bravely. With an elegant flourish, he seated himself upon the Accused Chair and was promptly shackled.

The room was filled with outrage. Some Lords and Ladies were pounding the stands before their seats, calling for heads. Minister Fudge shrank further into his seat.

"I, Lord Potter, _the_ Potter, by the honor of my Family's apparent position within this esteemed body, call for and accept the application of Veritaserum to prove my innocence. So mote it be."

"So mote it be," murmured Dumbledore absentmindedly along with nearly every other member of the Wizengamot. That was pretty standard procedure for innocent witches and wizards who found themselves sitting in the Accused Chair and knew the ways of the Wizengamot. It also greatly reduced the duration of a trial.

Harry's solicitor produced two vials of liquid, most likely Veritaserum and the antidote. "The Defense calls upon the Honorable Lady Bones in her role as Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement-."

"I'm coming. No need to drag this out any longer, Wells. I would like to have my morning cup soon." The monocled, no-nonsense woman said, descending the stairs. She nodded to the solicitor and leaned slightly to speak softly to the shackled, straight-backed Lord.

"What I would pay to have a house elf near the chair for that discussion." Lady Black declared fairly loudly. It was public knowledge that the Potters were close oath-comrades with the Bones, Longbottoms, and McKinnons. Harry's accusation against his Sibling Houses must have struck Lady Bones' pride extremely hard.

Her words caused both parties to up look at her briefly before Madame Bones went through the protocol on the spells and results' colors that would prove the potions were what the solicitor stated they were - a form of pure truth serum that could be only remedied minutes after ingestion and could only be taken once a week for fear of mental magic destruction. It was so strong that even the strongest of Occulmens could only rephrase their answers to evade directly answering.

Dumbledore was shocked that a 15-year-old would be forced to drink it. And judging by the nervous or furious whispers within the room, the other members were either afraid or shocked or both like Dumbledore.

"If it isn't too much of a burden, my client would prefer that you look over and approve this list of prepared questions. As Head of the DMLE-."

The woman impatiently removed the list from his hands. "I was in the field when you were still in your nappies, Robert. No need to continuously remind me how to do my job." Solicitor Wells bowed his head in obvious amusement. A small wave of laughter passed through the courtroom at the comic relief provided by the usual banter between the two. Their legendary verbal sparring in the court was often joked about in the backrooms of the Wizengamot.

As Madame Bones' eyes roamed the parchment for any unlawful or irrelevant questions, her monocle slipped from her face and fell with a resounding crash to the floor. "Sweet Merlin!"

With a flick of her wand, the glass was repaired, cleaned and the monocle was back in its rightful place.

"T-The questions are accepted." Unbeknownst to all but perhaps Dumbledore's magically enhanced half-moon glasses, she tapped the Auror medallion in her pocket in a sequence unfamiliar to him while murmuring under her breath.

Harry obediently opened his mouth to accept the offered drops before his eyes immediately glazed over.

"Please state your full name and title for the record."

"Henry James Potter, Lord and Head of the Most Noble and Ancient House of Potter, Lord of the Most Noble and Most Ancient House of Peverell, Lord of the Most Venerable House of Gryffindor, Heir of the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black."

Dumbledore reeled in his seat. The amount of political power Harry held had not been previously known by anyone, not even him. Should Harry join the Wizengamot, he would carry 8 votes - 2 votes for each of his Peverell and Potter Lordships and 4 for his Gryffindor Lordship. _And if Sirius passed off the Black Lordship, he would have an additional 4_. With or without the Black Lordship, Harry would be the highest ranked voter in the Wizengamot. The Chief Witch or Wizard only held 2 votes plus their Family Seat, as well as an honored veto vote. At the moment, Lady Esmeralda Jones held the highest rank with a voting power of 7 votes from the Most Noble and Most Ancient House McKinnons and the Noble and Ancient House Jones in addition to the Venerable House of Hufflepuff.

Dumbledore had his friend Elphias Doge voting with the Potter vote. He hadn't wanted his opponents to call him out for pandering and misusing the Potter votes, the Dumbledore vote, his Order of Merlin vote and the Chief Wizard vote. He and Elphias made sure to show different opinions every now and then. If he had known that the Potter vote included 8 votes, he could have had more laws passed.

He noted others doing the quick mental math as well. Fudge looked as if someone had told him his term had just ended. _It might as well have_. The loud wave of murmurs from the courtroom was cut off by Solicitor Wells.

"The truth serum is in effect. I ask for a selective silence ward around my client so as not to confuse Lord Potter." The solicitor said with an accusatory glance at the members seated on the podium. It was clear that Harry and his solicitor really only wanted to keep unsavory people from asking personal, unrelated questions.

Lady Bones cast a rather impressive selective sound ward around Harry and his solicitor, an Auror's standard procedure. Solicitor Wells nodded his thanks and began the rapid questioning.

"Lord Potter, when did you learn you are a wizard?"

"At age eleven when Gamekeeper Hagrid brought me my Hogwarts letter under orders from Headmaster Dumbledore." Dumbledore twitched under the glares from more than a few members.

"When did you learn the ways of your House?"

"This previous summer from the Head of the Australian Cadet Branch of Potters."

"Who left you with the squib sister of your mother?"

"Headmaster Dumbledore." More angry looks.

"When did you meet your magical guardian after your re-entry to the magical world?"

"I did not. I have never met an individual who introduced themselves as my magical guardian." The aghast whispers with more than a few members pointing in Dumbledore's direction.

 _Merlin stay me by._ It was pretty common knowledge that Dumbledore locked the Potter Will and assumed guardianship of Harry. For him to never tell the boy that he was his guardian also showed that Dumbledore never spoke to Harry of his rightful position as Head of the Most Noble and Ancient House of Potter or as Heir and Lord to the other Houses.

Just as Dumbledore prayed that Harry and his solicitor would change topics, they miraculously did just that.

"Please describe briefly your rescue of the Philosopher's Stone your first year at Hogwarts."

"Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley and I fought our way through the obstacles set up by the professors to protect the Stone after finding out the stone would be stolen. We evaded a Cerberus, Devil's Snare, enchanted keys, an animated chessboard, a potion puzzle, and I went through alone to keep the Stone from falling into the wrong hands. I fought Professor Quirrell, who had been possessed by the specter of Lord Voldemort. The professor died after I touched him with my hands as the protection provided by my mother's sacrifice still held. Voldemort's spirit escaped weakened, I fainted from exhaustion, and I had somehow managed to acquire the Stone from the Mirror of Erised."

It seemed to take a few moments for the members of the Wizengamot to wrap their minds around this information. Harry and his solicitor seemed to have particular targets in mind with their specific questions. They also did not seem to care too much about going into details, or smoothly transitioning between topics, and continued after a moment.

"Who in this room was informed about this?"

"Headmaster Dumbledore at least."

"Lady Bones, was an investigation or inquiry launched?"

The woman, who was standing stunned a few feet away from the boy, started slightly at the sudden question, shook her head and cleared her throat. "No."

"Lord Potter wishes to lodge a formal complaint against Headmaster Dumbledore and the Ministry for leaving himself and nearly 600 students in a dangerous situation with the specter of the Dark Lord. Is that correct, Lord Potter?"

"Yes."

"Did you use magic in the summer between your first and second year, as recorded by the Ministry?"

"No."

"Who performed the magic in your vicinity, as stated on your record?"

"The Malfoy house elf, Dobby."

"Lord Potter demands an investigation into how a Malfoy house elf breached the wards created by Headmaster Dumbledore. Is that correct Lord Potter?"

"Yes."

Malfoy shifted slightly in his seat.

"Did you defeat the centuries-old basilisk of Lord Salazar Slytherin within Slytherin's Chamber of Secrets your second year?"

"Yes." Small chatter began at this.

"Please explain briefly what happened in the chamber."

Harry spun a captivating story in his monotone voice about how his best friend was attacked, his research on snakes, his parseltongue abilities (which had Lady Black swelling with delight) and his encounter with acromantulae in the Forbidden Forest. Dumbledore made a note to talk to Hagrid about sending two Second Year students into such a dangerous situation.

By the time Harry told how he rescued young Ginevra from Tom with Gryffindor's sword, Basilisk venom, Phoenix tears, and the destruction of the diary, many of the members were giving him a standing ovation.

The court scribe had all but abandoned his note-taking and was staring at Harry in shock.

"Goodness, Gryffindor's Heir with Slytherin's gift!" Lord Nott, a renowned historian, murmured amazed from beside the ecstatic Lady Black.

"Whose diary was behind the attacks?"

"Tom Marvolo Riddle, known as Lord Voldemort, the diary was in the care of Lucius Malfoy-."

"OBJECTION! He is lying!" Lucius Malfoy snarled furiously jumping up from his seat. The Chief Witch merely stared him to silence.

"Lord Potter is under _pure truth serum_ , Lord Malfoy. Please maintain your composure." She said with narrowed eyes. She turned to Solicitor Wells. "Please continue with the questioning."

"I must object to the relevance of the questions as well, Chief Witch." The blond Lord continued smoothly. "Mr.- excuse me, _Lord_ Potter is providing thrilling stories which, however, have little to do with the matter at hand."

"If I may, Chief Witch? Lord Malfoy brings up a viable point." Solicitor Wells stated. "The purpose of the questions is not only to prove the innocence in regard to the trial at hand but to refute any past, and prevent subsequent, defamation of House Potter by this court. Thus, these questions are to construct an accurate image of my client's character and actions."

Chief Witch Marchbanks conferred briefly with Lady Bones via eye contact before nodding. "Since the questions have been considered acceptable by the Head of the DMLE, and Lord Potter willingly subjected himself to them, I will allow it."

Lucius Malfoy exhaled angrily and loudly from his nose before sitting back down in his seat, steaming. Wells asked Harry to continue his story. The entire room laughed loudly at the blond Lord as Harry described how he freed the Malfoy house elf and how that very same elf knocked the Lord flat on his behind.

"Lord Potter, who in this room was informed of what happened in the chamber?"

"Headmaster Dumbledore, Lucius Malfoy and Minister Fudge."

"Madame Bones, was an investigation or inquiry launched?"

"No," she declared from her newly conjured seat a few feet from Harry.

"Lord Potter wishes to lodge a formal complaint against Headmaster Dumbledore and the Ministry for leaving him and nearly 600 students in a dangerous situation with the specter of the Dark Lord, a nest of unreported acromantulae and a centuries-old basilisk. Is that correct, Lord Potter?"

"Yes."

It was clear to all that Harry had effectively turned the tables on the Ministry and that the Minister's plot to further discredit the Potter Lord had blown up in his face like a bad potion. Dumbledore and the school were also taking a few hits, but since no students had died during either incident, the school charter supported Dumbledore's decision in keeping the Ministry out of the loop.

It was Dumbledore's interference in Potter Family Matters that would cause him some issues especially with the Olde Families.

 _Yet, how is any of this possible! A person does not go from shy and antisocial to politically savvy, informed and eloquent in two weeks' time. Maybe the Potters had time turners in their arsenal?_ Dumbledore could feel a major headache coming on as he pondered Harry's change.

He decided he would just have to pull Harry to the side after the meeting, convince him to return to Headquarters and get the whole story out of him somehow.

 **.**

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AN: Thanks for all of the support and questions. Many questions had already been worked into the plot (great minds think alike and such)! If you bring up a really cool point or idea that I can incorporate, I will definitely give you a shout out!

 **Betaed by** Marc the Unruly


	6. Chapter 6: Changing Britain Part 2

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 **.**

 **Chapter Six: When the Potters Changed Magical Britain Part 2**

.

.

 ** _Last time:_**

 _Yet, how is any of this possible! A person does not go from shy and antisocial to politically savvy, informed and eloquent in two weeks' time. Maybe the Potters had time turners in their arsenal? Dumbledore could feel a major headache coming on as he pondered Harry's change._

 _He decided he would just have to pull Harry to the side after the meeting, convince him to return to Headquarters and get the whole story out of him somehow._

.

.

Out of the corner of his eye, Dumbledore noticed that Minister Fudge and Undersecretary Umbridge were gesturing angrily at the papers on the table in front of them while carrying on a whispered argument. A sudden uproar from the members of the Wizengamot brought Dumbledore, the Minister, and Madame Umbridge back to the matter at hand.

Percy Weasley seemed to have exclaimed the loudest and was flushed with embarrassment for some reason. _Ah yes, we should be hearing about Harry's third year. Mr. Weasley must have learned that his pet rat was the person responsible for revealing the secrets of the Potters to Voldemort._

A small announcement of Harry Potter's private Godfather Ceremony on September 30th, 1980, apparently the most recent document of evidence, lay before him.

Dumbledore's stomach dropped as he read the magically highlighted words " _Godparent Oath_ " on the announcement. Such a Magical Oath declared that person would never willingly harm either the Godchild or its family with the penalty of losing their own magic. Anyone with an ounce of sense would know then that Sirius could not have betrayed the Potters.

Dumbledore held the paper with trembling fingers. He hadn't known...

"Who in this room knew of your foray with Lord Black, and thus of his wrongful imprisonment?"

"Minister Fudge and Headmaster Dumbledore."

The previously jovial Lady Black suddenly turned to look at Dumbledore with fury in her stormy grey eyes. "You and I will be having words, _Headmaster_!"

Dumbledore swallowed his fear impressively, nodding at the woman. Lady Black was not known for being a politician as she was known for her viciousness, for gathering information on everyone of interest and for getting retribution for her Family by using said information. If she thought Dumbledore knowingly sent Sirius Black to Azkaban and let him remain there, he would be Target One on her hit list.

Dumbledore began mentally drafting his statement to the Daily Prophet for the morning issue. _There will be so much to comment on... That is, if I am not blacklisted come morning._

"What happened to Peter Pettigrew after this moment?"

"He turned into a rat and escaped."

"What happened to you and Lord Black?"

"We were attacked by the Dementors stationed at the school."

"How many Dementors?"

"A hundred, possibly more." A bit of pride broke through Harry's monotone voice.

Solicitor Wells copied and disseminated the documentation signed in Blood Quill by Minister Fudge that relocated over a 100 Dementors to be stationed at Hogwarts.

"How were you able to fight off the Dementors?"

"With the Patronus Charm."

"OBJECTION! There is no way that boy was able to cast such a powerful spell at 13. This must be fabricated!" Madam Umbridge yelled.

"Indeed! And if this is fabricated, who is to say that everything else we've been spooned here has a single shred of truth to it." Lucius added quickly. "I motion to have-."

Already moving before Malfoy had spoken, Solicitor Wells removed Harry's holly wand from the boy's robes and placed it in the boy's hand.

"Could you please perform the charm?" He asked loudly, effectively speaking over Lord Malfoy.

"Expecto Patronum."

Even under sedation, a glorious corporeal stag emerged from Harry's wand and charged around the silent room - its hooves pounding the floor beneath it - before resting before its master and bowing as it dissipated. Dumbledore could see Madame Marchbanks writing notes, no doubt now in her capacity as Governor of the Wizarding Examinations Authority. Such a performance before OWL examinations would most likely put Harry on an expedited track to a Mastery in DADA.

Although Madame Umbridge's or Lord Malfoy's objections had not been answered in any way, Harry's corporeal Patronus had sufficiently awed the rest of the Wizengamot into forgetting just that. Lucius Malfoy seemed paralyzed with a dropped jaw.

"Madame Bones, was an investigation or inquiry launched?"

Madame Bones, who had stood up in awe and whose monocle had again fallen off, remained transfixed on the spot where the corporeal stag last stood. She merely shook her head in the negative.

"Lord Potter wishes to lodge a formal complaint against Headmaster Dumbledore and the Ministry for leaving himself and nearly 600 students in a dangerous situation with the murderer Peter Pettigrew and 135 Dementors and for failing to declare the innocence of a falsely imprisoned Lord. Is that correct, Lord Potter?"

"Yes."

"Did you put your name into the Goblet of Fire, have anyone do it for you, or have knowledge of it being done on your behalf?"

"No. No. No."

"So you were an unwilling participant?"

"Yes."

"Do you know who put your name in?"

"Barty Crouch Jr., son of Barty Crouch Sr., who impersonated Alastor Moody as Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor." Someone fainted on the other side of the room and had to be revived by one of the nearby members.

"What happened to him?"

"Minister Fudge had him Kissed by Dementors when he heard that an escaped Death Eater had been found at Hogwarts."

Solicitor Wells copied the documentation and sent it to each member.

Taken a deep breath, Wells dropped the next dragon egg. "Briefly explain what happened after you entered the maze for the Third Task of the Triwizard Competition."

Despite Harry's monotone voice, he told a gripping narrative of each obstacle he faced. Once he mentioned that the Triwizard Cup was a portkey, many of the members on the podium next to Dumbledore became restless. They obviously could not speak out as it would raise suspicions, but Dumbledore worried what they would do when Harry named them or their family members.

Harry, oblivious to this all, continued on in his monotone voice describing Voldemort's resurrection in more detail than even Dumbledore had been privy to. Dumbledore wondered briefly if the blood that Harry unwillingly provided for Voldemort's new body would have discharged the wards, allowing for the letter from Virgil Potter to slip through.

Seeming to revel in the shocked and frightened silence, Wells asked his next question with a knowing smile in the direction of the podium. "Which Death Eaters did the Dark Lord name in attendance?"

"OBJECTION!" Lucius Malfoy cried out suddenly, being immediately overturned by the Chief Witch who narrowed her eyes in obvious suspicion at the French-blooded Lord and leaned forward in anticipation.

"Avery, Vincent Crabbe Sr., Gregory Goyle Sr., Walden Macnair, Theodore Nott Sr., and Lucius Mal-."

"AVADA KEDAVRA!" Lucius Malfoy shouted, apparently still standing. The green spell flew from his cane before the man himself was surrounded by a blood red mist, which Dumbledore then identified as the blonde's own blood. Lord Malfoy cried out in pain and fell to the floor clutching his exploded wand hand.

Dumbledore's mind tracked the course of the green spell as it simultaneously recalled the myth known to most old-blooded English Lords that the courtroom punished those who tried to inflict harm on other Lords within its boundaries at the price of their own magic. The room had been a part of the original Wizarding Council which had been founded during an age where assassination attempts were made regularly. Malfoy, of obvious French descent, most likely had not known of this, or merely just didn't consider it in his haste to shut the boy up.

Nevertheless, the rapidly paling, and most likely de-magicalizing, Malfoy was completely ignored. Dumbledore and many others watched, transfixed and paralyzed, as the green curse traveled the short distance from the podium to the Accused Chair. The Elder wand jumped into his hand a fraction of a second too late.

Several people cried out in shock as the sedated Boy-Who-Lived was struck in the head by the green curse and slumped forward, lifelessly and still shackled in his chair.

A second's beat passed where no one seemed to breathe. The disbelief was palpable.

Then suddenly, pandemonium broke. Some members fainted or screamed. Many members fell over themselves heading for the doors in a panic, especially those near where Dumbledore sat. Some members had fallen over in their seats in shock or were openly weeping. Solicitor Wells had fallen to his knees by the lifeless teenager.

Dumbledore ignored the panic around him and sank into his chair as if the weight of the world had been dumped onto his shoulders. The death of an innocent youth had never been his goal. All he had done to and for Harry was to prepare him for, what Dumbledore believed to be, an inevitable and predestined task.

 _James and Lily, forgive me, please. Harry... I thought it was the only way._

With tears streaming down his face and his head in his hands, Dumbledore only peripherally noted the Chief Witch ordering a lock-down and calling for Aurors to detain the Wizengamot members mentioned by Harry. It was minutes later when Dumbledore felt a wave of negative energy from the Accused Chair. Only he and a few other magic sensitive individuals in the room stopped what they were doing and turned to the boy. Dumbledore noticed a pure black wisp escape from Harry's scar and disappear almost instantly as if sucked away.

Dumbledore, who had been considering making his way through the chaos to the fallen hope of the Wizarding World, stopped as the malicious magic came and left.

He witnessed dumbfounded Harry's subsequent, almost instantaneous awakening with a gasp.

"Gods, that was horrid." The raven-haired youth croaked. He looked around at the chaos with wide eyes before turning to his solicitor, who was pale, on his knees and seemed close to a nervous breakdown. "What happened?"

The reaction to Harry's revival and words was so loud and emotional that even the Chief Witch's sonoroused calls for order were drowned out.

Madame Bones had quickly dispatched the rest of the numerous Aurors, who had been stationed by the doors, to restore order, bind the apparently non-magical and unconscious Lucius Malfoy, the other named Death Eaters and revive fallen, unconscious or emotionally upset Wizengamot members. She personally checked on Harry.

Dumbledore considered going down to do his own diagnosis and confirm his theory that the piece of Voldemort lodged in Harry's scar had been removed, but he realized that such an action would only serve to distract Harry and could be construed as tampering with and upsetting the witness. He did not put it past the darker elements in the courtroom to try to end the trial prematurely before they were revealed and tried.

 _And if Harry reacts negatively to my presence after surviving a second Death Curse in front numerous witnesses, the speculation and negative press would be endless_ , the political part of his mind argued.

Dumbledore righted his overturned chair and opted to bide his time. Harry's survival, though surely wonderful and miraculous, had nevertheless binned many of Dumbledore's theories and interpretations of the prophecy made about the boy and Voldemort. He made a mental note to go revisit the long list of possibilities that he had created, added to and altered over the years.

Though it took some minutes, a semblance of order was established in the room. Quite a few members asked for an intermission, but Chief Witch Marchbanks staunchly rejected the notion. She chatted briefly with Solicitor Wells and Madame Bones before declaring that the pale-looking Harry would prefer to answer the remaining few questions.

"Absolutely astonishing." Lady Black declared next to Dumbledore. "Two doses of pure Veritaserum, casting a corporeal Patronus and surviving a second Death Curse while under sedation… all within an hour's time… That boy will be considered Merlin reincarnate come morning."

The stunned silence in the room concurred with her assessment.

Solicitor Wells administered a new dosage of serum with visible quakes in his hand.

Harry's eyes immediately glazed over.

"Please state your full name and main title for the record."

"Henry James Potter, Lord and Head of the Most Noble and Ancient House of Potter."

The quiver in the man's voice was noticeable. "The truth s-serum is again in effect."

"Lord Potter, you named Lucius Malfoy last as one of the Death Eaters at the resurrection of the Dark Lord. Were there any more?"

"Yes, but I can only name those whose names I know."

"Understandable. Lord Potter wishes to provide the memory of the resurrection for the DMLE for further investigation. Is that correct, Lord Potter?"

Several people looked uncomfortable at that. None dared to follow Malfoy's example, however.

"Yes."

"Who, in this room, was told of your kidnapping by the Dark Lord, his revival, Cedric Diggory's true cause of death, and the names of the Death Eaters present as the Dark Lord's resurrection ritual?"

"Headmaster Dumbledore and Minister Fudge."

"Madame Bones, was an investigation or inquiry launched?"

"No." She whispered, looking at the young man before her in disbelief.

"Lord Potter wishes to lodge a formal complaint against Headmaster Dumbledore and the Ministry for leaving him to compete as a minor in a dangerous competition meant for adults, for not investigating his kidnapping by the Dark Lord and Barty Crouch Jr. and a special complaint against the Minister for dishonoring his Oath of Office by de-souling a witness without authorization, endangering the whole of Magical Britain by letting the resurrected Dark Lord go uninvestigated and for libel against Lord Potter. Is that correct, Lord Potter?"

"Yes."

Any chance that Minister Fudge had of maintaining his position until next year's election had gone up in smoke. The glares the man was receiving made Dumbledore wonder if the man would make it back to clean out his office intact.

"When did learn that you had family other than your muggle and squib relations?"

"This summer through Goblin Secured Post."

"Have you ever received post from Gringotts, fans, or from people you haven't met in person before?"

"No. No."

"Lord Potter demands an investigation into how his post has been blocked and who has been blocking it. Is that correct, Lord Potter?"

Dumbledore sighed inaudibly. _At least I have a sound and honest answer for that._

"Yes."

"Did you simultaneously cast the two different Patronuses for which you are being tried?"

"No.

"When and where did you learn of this trial?"

"Yesterday, at the Potter Family home in Australia."

The solicitor signed in relief at the conclusion of the questioning and asked the room, as was mandatory if there were questions for his client.

Chief Witch Marchbanks raised her hand. "Is He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named truly back?"

Harry responded immediately, indicating that the Silencing ward had fallen. "Yes."

"What can we do to stop him?" Asked a shrill voice frightened.

"Why didn't you stop him?"

"How are you still alive?"

A small unintelligible babble of questions rose, but Harry had already begun answering.

"Stop fearing him and his servants, fight back. There are more if you than there is of them. I don't know. Most likely because of the-." His solicitor placed a hand over Harry's moving mouth.

"Please no unauthorized questions, Lady Jones, Lord Wilkes and Lord Greengrass." Chief Witch Marchbanks growled banging her gavel.

No one else gestured that they had questions. _Probably still dumbfounded by Harry once again accomplishing the impossible_ , Dumbledore thought. A small shiver of cold went down his back as he considered several possibilities of how Harry's knowledge and finesse were possible. _Perhaps Tom's hold on Harry is deeper than I originally calculated. He_ has _had nearly 14 years to bury himself in Harry's mind..._ The possibilities were endless, and the chances of defeating Voldemort very slim if he had two footings in the mortal realm.

Dumbledore filed his suspicions away for the moment.

With a very anticlimactic end to the mind-boggling interrogation, Harry was given the antidote to the truth serum.

Without missing a beat, his posture straight-backed, Harry declared in a soft but resonate voice, "With this farce of a trial behind me, I demand to be released from the chair."

With a gesture from Madame Bones, two Aurors scrambled to release Harry from the Accused Chair. Harry nodded his thanks before turning to the Wizengamot members not on the prosecution podium.

"Esteemed Wizengamot members, all of you bore witness to this travesty of a trial, to the horrific knowledge that has been hidden from you all in name of politicking. Such a scandal in England will ruin our international prestige… especially when it becomes public knowledge that I, Lord Potter, am actively considering leaving this island of my ancestors and turning my back on both its educational and legislative institutions-."

His following words being drowned out by screams and shouts of outrage caused him to raise his voice.

"DUE TO THE NUMEROUS MURDEROUS AND COWARDLY ATTEMPTS ON MY PERSON!" He shouted with righteous outrage. The torches flickered ominously.

Dumbledore didn't see until Harry turned that he was eying each member of the body with palpable suspicion and disgust.

Harry suddenly pounded on his own chest. "My Family Magik cries for solatium and justice that this body seems unwilling and incapable of providing. My Family Honor screams for retribution and an immediate withdrawal of all assets as well as oaths, loans, and debts to the Potter Family."

Many members paled. Such an act would disable the economy. The Potters had investments in quite a few Families' businesses, and many other companies held some type of economic relationship to the Potters as well. _Not to mention what would happen after should he do the same with the Lordship of any of his other Houses_.

With a respectful nod to the room, Harry finished. "I leave you to your ruling and bid you all a good day," Harry said. He nodded politely to Madame Bones and began helping his solicitor in gathering his papers.

Dumbledore edged out of his seat in order to catch Harry before he left the courtroom. He was stopped by the ringing sound of a Wizengamot member making a motion.

"I motion to declare Lord Potter innocent of all crimes and call for an intermission as well an immediate trial for Madame Umbridge and Lucius Malfoy under Veritaserum for the attempted murder of a Lord!" Shouted Lady Augusta Longbottom.

"I second the motion." Added Lady Black, surprisingly, causing whispers to break out on the opposite side of the chamber. Never before had a Longbottom and Black agreed so readily on the floor.

"Noted." Declared Chief Witch Marchbanks after a nod from the court scribe. "Any objections?"

No one made a sound

"Motion passes."

Madame Umbridge swelled in outrage as Aurors quickly silenced, petrified and arrested her. The trussed woman was left like discarded luggage near the Accused Chair.

"I call for an investigation into the Minister's Office and for the Minister to step down immediately." Rumbled the venerable Lord Ogden.

"I second." Lady Bones stated with no hesitation.

"B-but you can't do that-."

"Noted." Chief Witch Marchbanks said, cutting Fudge off as one would an impertinent child.

The aged woman looked directly at the retreating back of Harry and his solicitor and seemed to come to a decision.

"As Chief Witch, and based on the evidence presented today, I declare Magical Britain in a state of war against the so-called Lord V-vo… Voldemort. Any servant of his is to be tried before this court on a basis of treason."

"I second," Dumbledore stated gravely.

It was considered a formality to second the Chief Witch or Wizards declaration. It was, also, Dumbledore's only chance to save face. This would disrupt his many plans for Voldemort and Harry, but he would just have to stay abreast of and adapt to the current situation.

Chief Witch Marchbanks' raised an eyebrow at him before she turned her attention to Harry, who was nearly at the door and close to where Dumbledore was edging to intercept him.

"Lord Potter." She called out, halting his steps, "Despite your past experiences with the current administration and with Headmaster Dumbledore, I invite you, and I hope you will stay, to join this body in providing the justice you seek." She paused just as Harry turned to acknowledge her and her fetial offering. "I declare you innocent of all crimes brought forward by the Ministry today."

Harry smiled and conferred briefly with his solicitor. After a moment of deliberation, which caused more than a few to shift nervously in their seats, Harry responded. "I am honored, Chief Witch Marchbanks. I, Lord Potter of Peverell and of Gryffindor, hereby swear to bear the burden of vigilance, protect my country, and join this body as my ancestors have done since its inception. So mote it be."

"So mote it be." The chamber chanted as one and cheered as the room's magic created a chair for Harry next to Madame Bones' no longer vacant one in the stands.

"Going from prosecuted to a prosecutor in one session is unheard of, Lord Potter, even more so considering your age. I assume we can expect great things from you; you are an asset to your ancestors." The Chief Witch intoned as Harry took his hereditary seat, shaking hands with some of the members while being cheerfully applauded. "I declare this session a sealed war session. No one will be allowed to leave until all prisoners have been interrogated, Lord Potter's memories and complaints have been assessed and all points on the soon to be determined war agenda are voted on."

She gestured to Lady Bones, who turned to her Aurors with a steely order. "Aurors! Seal the room!"

Chief Witch Marchbanks continued while the Aurors magically sealed the five doors. "House elves will be providing refreshments momentarily. I call for an intermission of ten minutes while evidence and potions are being gathered for the upcoming session."

With a bang of her gavel, the future of Magical Britain had been changed. Dumbledore went back to his chair, his thoughts swirling rapidly as he pondered his next moves and how this newly inducted Lord Potter would be a part of them.

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AN: I have this whole story now completely mapped out. Feel free to feed my muse with ideas, though.

 **Betaed by** Marc the Unruly


	7. Chapter 7: The Black Side

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 **Chapter Seven: The Black Side**

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It was with a weary sigh that Sirius sat down at the breakfast table in his Family House.

No one had heard anything from Dumbledore or Shacklebolt since yesterday morning. Tonks had repeatedly told everyone all she knew.

Dumbledore had messaged them via Patronus to be ready to inform the Wizengamot that it had been their Patronuses cast that night. She said they had waited nearly thirty minutes, during which what seemed like the entire Wizengamot entered the room, chatting excitedly about the summons from a new Lord.

She reported that after around five minutes Shacklebolt and over 20 other Senior Aurors were summoned by Madame Bones to guard the doors, and, after a while, an emergency signal came and more Aurors were called in, with five Aurors guarding the doors. Tonks recalled hearing screams and shouts from within the courtroom, but she had not been able to see much before her fellow Aurors closed the doors.

Many within the Order seemed to forget that, as an Auror, Tonks was trained to quickly and thoroughly observe and recall minute details, and they tried to squeeze more information out of her. After repeating the same information and answers several times, Tonks stormed off in frustration, leaving the Order to hours of fruitless speculation.

 _I should have just taken Prongs Jr. and disappeared. Why on Earth did I listen to Dumbledore… again?_

Sirius had asked himself the same thing many times this summer. As Harry's magical godfather, it was his duty to care for Harry. And twice, he had stupidly allowed Dumbledore to impose on his guardianship. The first time Sirius gave Harry to Hagrid who was following "Dumbledore's orders" and then again Sirius listened to the old goat after Voldemort's return.

 _"It is imperative that Harry returns to his relatives to charge the Blood wards. I'm sorry, Sirius, but I can't let him come to Headquarters until late summer."_ Dumbledore had said to him in a sympathetic voice nearly two months ago.

 _It almost as if he doesn't care about Harry as a person rather just as a means to end Voldemort._

Fortunately, it was not only Sirius who saw it so. Early in the summer, just as the new Order members had been inducted, Sirius had walked in on Remus and Bill Weasley having a rather heated discussion with Snivell- _Severus_ regarding Harry, Dumbledore and the Prophecy.

 _"If anyone gets hurt on this silly mission, I plan on resigning from the Order immediately!" Bill Weasley's voice was muffled by the sitting room's door._

 _"William…"_

 _"No, Remus. I only joined because I thought we would be actively fighting against You-Know-Who, not 'guarding' weapons!"_

 _"Don't you dare call Harry that! Dumbledore truly cares for him as if he were his own family."_

 _"What makes you think I was referring to Harry?" Bill said, smiling in victory._

 _Remus ducked his head slightly. "I know what everyone is saying about Dumbledore leaving Harry with his relatives. But it is in his best interests! And Albus has seen to it that-."_

 _A derisive snort met the rather enthusiastic praise of Dumbledore. "Remus, I've come to respect you greatly over the past weeks, but you are unfortunately so far in Dumbledore's pocket that you've seemed to have lost your grasp of reality."_

 _"It is the beast in him." A snarky Snape had said._

The impromptu meeting continued with Severus providing an illuminating summary of Harry's previous years at Hogwarts, Dumbledore's negligence of Harry, his Lordship and his position as Harry's magical guardian.

Sirius jumped into the conversation then. He and Remus had ranted and raged at Snape for not doing enough to protect Harry before the man cut the two of them down rather effectively.

 _"And where were you?" Severus snarled furiously at the two. "Licking your paws and wallowing piteously in self-loathing, grief and remorse? I, at least, honored Lily's memory by trying to save the brat and discipline him into an upright person."_

Despite the fact that the four decided to watch Dumbledore's actions and protect Harry as much as possible if needed. Sirius was still smarting from the vicious truth many days afterward.

Remus had taken it especially hard. While Sirius had been incarcerated, Remus had had no such excuse for never having taken an active interest in Harry's well-being. Sirius caught him piss drunk and asleep in his room days after their first meeting. He made a mental note to talk to Remus about it, he knew how depressed Moony could get.

"Beating up porridge, grand-nephew? And I thought our Family could stoop no lower." A sharp voice said, yanking him abruptly out of his thoughts in the gloomy kitchen.

Sirius floundered in shock and his bowl crashed to the ground.

In the kitchen door frame stood Cassiopeia Black, looking as intimidating as she had been twenty years prior when she stared down Sirius' father for disinheriting him. Her face had thinned and aged quite a bit since then, but her demeanor and posture remained outstanding even by Black standards.

"Aunt Cassie? Wh-How?" Sirius' befuddled mind tried to comprehend how the woman was standing before him.

 _But the Fidelius charm… Maybe Family Magik did confuse it despite Dumbledore's reassurance._

She stood behind the seat she chose strategically and carefully, opposite of Sirius but with a clear view of the room and waited patiently for his manners to kick in. The etiquette Sirius had learned at his grandfather Lord Arcturus Black's knee, from Lord Black to the Lord Apparent, forced him up onto his feet. Almost instantly, he seated his Aunt properly.

"Kreacher! Tea!" He called as he vanished the mess his porridge bowl had made.

The nasty elf appeared with a sparkling silver tea set. "The blood traitor calls Kreacher, but Kreacher only answers because of Lady Black's presence."

His aunt jolted in her seat. "Bite your tongue, elf!" His aunt growled snapping off a rather violent stinging curse that caused Kreacher to sink to his knees in agony. "You dare speak such bile in the presence of your Masters! The years here alone with my dear niece's _abominable_ portrait must have stripped you of your sense!"

"I look at this fusty hovel, once a powerful symbol of our House, and wonder how you dare to neglect your duties and spit on our generosity to your ancestors. You ought to be dismembered and forced to clean with your foul tongue. Consider this my only warning, beast, now be gone!"

The shaken elf's eyes widened comically before he disappeared with a small snap.

Sirius chuckled while serving the tea. "I must say, your tongue hasn't lost its venom, not one ounce."

A grim smile cracked the old woman's face. When he passed her the tea he had made just as she preferred it from memory as he had done numerous times in his youth, she grabbed his hands. "My dear Sirius, it does my tired heart good to see you outside of that horrible place."

A warm feeling grew in his chest.

Between Narcissa's routine visits to her sister and stops to gloat at him, only Aunt Cassie and his grandfather, Lord Arcturus Black III, had stopped by to visit him. His grandfather had been so sickened and ailed by the state of the Family that he only managed to stop by twice before sickness prevented him. Sirius' animagus transformations, his innocence and Aunt Cassie's yearly visits as Lady Regnant were the only things that kept him sane.

"What brings you, Aunt?" A brief chill went down his back. "You can't be seen! Dumbledore-."

She held up a hand that silenced him immediately. "Worry not. Not only have I placed a Black ward on the door to confound any who come to the dining hall to feel the need to get more sleep, but the esteemed Headmaster will be occupied for quite some time trying, like many others, to get an audience with Lord Potter."

 _Lord Potter? That could only be-._

"Harry," He gasped, spilling his tea. _Is Harry Lord Potter? How in Merlin's sack hair did that happen?_

His Aunt gave a true smile, something Sirius had only seen rarely. "He turned the Wizengamot on their heads!"

She spent the next few minutes giving Sirius a brief but excellent overview of the very memorable and historic session. "I expect you will be able to read it in more detail in the special morning edition of the Prophet."

"H-he died?" He asked shaken. Harry's survival of yet another death curse overshadowed the knowledge of his innocence being declared.

She nodded. "If only briefly." As if that did much to comfort him!

"And Malfoy?" He growled.

The vicious smile that crossed her face was her trademark, the one that sent her victi- _enemies_ scurrying in fear.

"I will leave that as a surprise for you. I believe you, as a Black, will enjoy the retribution."

Sirius may have hated the Dark side of his Family, but righteous revenge was something he could get behind.

With a gulp of pure elegance, his aunt emptied her cup and stood. "Unfortunately, or fortunately, due to Lord Potter's coming to power and Lord Malfoy's cowardly homicide, I will have to reconsider the actions of the previous Lord Blacks in disowning so many born Blacks. I will be spending the next weeks reestablishing the Family. You will hear from me soon, dear nephew."

Sirius stood to escort her to the Floo. "Are you realigning the Family as well?"

She took his arm with a firm grasp. "I cannot head the family for much longer. I am more suited for subtle, shadow politicking. I grow tired of the meetings, the squabbles, and the rigorous routine... I will need my peace. I have been unable to head the Family to the standards of some of our forefathers. Therefore, I would prefer to return to my research and books." She sighed. "With such a powerful Heir Black and a recovering Lord Apparent both with Light and Grey affiliations, what else can House Black do to survive?"

As they left the quiet kitchen into the equally quiet corridor, Sirius was confronted with his own internal conflict. The last thing he wanted to do was head the Family that once represented all that he despised since he was a kid.

As she released his arm with a gentle pat and grabbed some Floo powder, she turned to Sirius and sighed. "I know the Family has done you more injustice than good, but think of all the changes the combined strength of House Potter and House Black can achieve if truly joined…"

 _With Voldemort back, we might have no choice_ , he completed for her.

Sirius gave a nod of understanding before a small ruckus from upstairs caused him to flinch.

"And do try to keep the riffraff from destroying and stealing too many of our Family heirlooms." She cast a mournful look in the direction of a few piles of Black regalia and books near the fireplace. "The knowledge within and value of many of these could be powerful in the right hands and very dangerous in the wrong."

With a rush of green flames and a call of "Black Manor", she was gone.

Sirius cast a disgusted look at the piles she referred to, noting with some apprehension that his aunt had been right. _Throwing these away could do us more harm than good. Especially if Death Eaters got a hold of them_.

"Kreacher!"

The elf appeared before him and Sirius was taken aback by his changed appearance. Gone were the dirty, worn rags and loincloth. In their place was a starched toga with the Black Emblem proudly displayed on the chest. The little elf even seemed to stand a bit taller, prouder.

"Master called." The elf executed a shaky but passable bow.

"Move all items of value and… of darker preferences to the Family vault in Gringotts." It was pure luck that they had only just recently begun piling the junk together to be destroyed.

Kreacher bit his lip. "Kreacher cannot, master. Many items been taken already." He said fearfully.

Sirius' full attention snapped to him. "Who dares steal from m-us!" Family Magik rose like a dark, invisible thunder cloud around them. It wouldn't have mattered to him if someone took things after asking, but no one had talked to him.

The elf looked at Sirius in awe. "The muggle-loving headmaster, the smelly thief and the fat, blood-traitor bitch."

Sirius translated the Kreacher-speech into Mundungus Fletcher and Molly Weasley. "What did they take? No one asked me if they could have anything."

Kreacher grabbed his ears roughly. "The muggle lover took many books and Master Regulus' locket." The elf cried. Sirius wondered briefly what locket since his brother abhorred wearing jewelry. "The smelly thief took many pieces of jewelry and all he could fit in his pockets."

"And Molly?" Kreacher gave a confused look. "The... fat, blood-traitor bi- You know!"

"The Tiaras." Kreacher said fearfully. "She taked the Tiaras."

Sirius may have growled, but he couldn't tell as blood rushed to his ears. He learned the story behind the Tiaras at his grandfather's knee.

The Blacks and the Prewitts had fought for years over three Goblin-made tiaras made for three Black-Prewitt unions many centuries ago. One Black daughter was to marry a Prewitt son per generation for three generations in celebration of a successful trading pact. The Tiaras were the bride price, considered priceless due to the Goblin-mined jewels, precious metals and infused magic.

The business had turned sour as the Prewitts reneged on their part of the trade due to financial difficulties, causing both families to suffer. The newlywed Prewitt husband was found beating his Black wife in a drunken rage and was cursed lame by her brother. The two remaining marriage contracts were annulled, and the then Lord Black demanded the return of the Tiaras but was denied by his financially down counterpart.

It was only through trickery that the Blacks received the Tiaras nearly a hundred years later in the 16th century as the then Prewitt Lord found himself facing hard financial turmoil. With the promise of quick funds during a Goblin rebellion, the Prewitt Lord did not think to have the jewelry properly appraised. The Tiaras were bought back by the Blacks at a 1000th of their value. It was only after the return of the Tiaras that the Blacks publicly released how much the Tiaras were truly worth, much to the fury of the Prewitts. Since then, the Prewitts had all but declared a Blood Feud, opposing the Blacks whenever and wherever they could.

 _Thank Merlin Aunt Cassie didn't know about Molly and her children staying in the house. She might have ordered Kreacher to strangle them in their sleep._

He shuddered at the thought of what she would have done if she knew about the theft of the Tiaras.

"Why didn't you stop them?"

"Bad Master ordered Kreacher not to interfere and to stay out of the way." Kreacher snarled before banging his head against the wall in self-punishment.

"Stop, Kreacher." He commanded deep in thought. "I want you to retrieve everything stolen from us... as you clean the house," He paused and cleared his throat, "by any means necessary."

A smile most evil grew on the elf's face. He bowed lower than Sirius thought possible at his age and disappeared with a pop and a small look of adoration.

Almost immediately, Sirius heard shrieks and yelling from upstairs. He couldn't resist a small grin, _maybe being cooped up in this old house won't be so bad after all_.

It was a full cup of tea later that the kitchen started filling with rudely awakened Weasleys, Remus and Harry's friend Hermione.

"Sirius, you have to do something about that elf!" Molly harped as she began making breakfast for her brood. "He threw all of us out of our beds, randomly locked the doors to the bathrooms and started rummaged through our things."

Sirius bit back a grin and gave a thoroughly confused, innocent look that convinced all but Remus, who narrowed his eyes at him.

"Spending so much time with my mother's portrait unhinged the deranged elf."

Harry's muggleborn friend glared at Sirius and Molly. "He can't do anything about what he has been enslaved into doing. The poor thing."

Sirius chuckled softly but did not respond.

Lily had said something similar about the elves at Hogwarts until James left a few books from his Family Library on her dorm bed about the Curse of Elderon and the history of house elves. The current house elves were the descendants of a small band of proud elves who lived in a stretch of forest and had violently betrayed the owner of the land, a warlock named Elderon. With his last strength, Elderon cursed and enslaved them and their descendants for their misdeeds. This was a story usually known only to purebloods who were taught such history by their families. Muggleborns and half-bloods were, as usual, at a disadvantage.

 _Maybe I should recommend something similar to Harry. Maybe we could have another muggleborn Lady Potter? Lily did stop hating James after that since she was convinced that he was "cured of his arrogance" even though she began advocating for freeing the elves of the curse._

His mind now solely revolving around getting the two teenagers together, he missed the girl calling his name.

 _They would even have the same initials! It'd be perfect!_

" **Sirius**!"

Sirius was ripped from his mental matchmaking. "Whaa?"

"Have you heard anything about Harry?

"No. Nothing." He said sadly. Remus' eyes narrowed at him suspiciously again.

Sirius shook his head subtly, to which his werewolf friend nodded slowly. They would talk after breakfast.

"I wish he would have just written me; I would have been able to talk him out of this." She said more to herself than to the table at large.

"You would deprive him of contact with the blood relatives he has on his father's side?" Sirius asked the bushy-haired teenager blandly.

Realizing how loud she had spoken, Hermione cleared her throat with a tinge of embarrassment coloring her cheeks.

"Well, I mean… I wish he had informed us before running off-."

"Which he did," Sirius said simply. "If he hadn't been left in the dark by the rest of us, I believe he would have reacted differently to the letter."

The bushy-haired girl blushed and guiltily went quiet as did the entire table.

Remus made a small noise with his throat to cover the silence at the table and to keep Sirius in check.

"What confuses me is that he has been in the wizarding world for the last four years, and no one told him a thing about his family. If I didn't know better, I'd say there was a conspiracy."

The red that crept into Harry's redheaded friend's face as he shoved food around on his plate and the slight widening of Molly's eyes was all the answer he needed. He growled mentally, wondering who was in on the little conspiracy to keep the orphaned Heir Potter ignorant of his rights and responsibilities.

 _Merlin, Severus was right. Molly will have a lot to answer for when Harry returns._

The confusion on Hermione's face convinced Sirius to pull her to the side soon and bring the rather intelligent girl up to date.

"Are you sure, Sirius?" She began. "Who wou-."

The very early arrival of the morning post owls cut her off her question.

Remus cast a confused glance at his worn watch, giving Sirius an idea for a good Christmas present.

Remembering his aunt's hints about the morning edition, Sirius tried to play nonchalant as Remus and Arthur took the paper. Harry's two friends seemed to be deep in whispered conversation.

"Dear Merlin!" Arthur exclaimed. A glance at Remus told Sirius that the man had gone into one of his patented, shocked reading modes.

"What is it?" Molly asked frightened. Sirius had a brief flashback to the previous war with Voldemort where Molly had apparently developed a phobia for the newspaper after her twin brothers and countless other loved ones were murdered and reported on daily.

Arthur laid the paper down with shaking hands. His mind seemed to disbelieve what his eyes were seeing.

Sirius leaned forward to catch a glimpse of the huge, flashing headlines.

 ** _The Boy Who Lived TWICE: Who Conspired to Destroy House Potter?_**

 ** _The Boy-Who-Lived becomes the Lord-Who-Triumphed: How Lord Potter's Ascension Changes the Make-up of the Wizengamot_**

 ** _Trial of the Century: How the Ministry Falsely Detained, Accused and Nearly Convicted an Innocent Lord Potter_**

 ** _Death Eaters in the Ministry: Wizengamot Convicts Death Eaters of Treason_**

 ** _Sirius Black Found Innocent in Absentia: The Conspiracy and Cover-up Against Lord Potter's Magical Guardian_**

 ** _Minister Fudge Ousted in Shame: Who will be the next Minister of Magic?_**

Sirius was unable to read more as Harry's bushy-haired future wife - at least in his mind - snatched the paper with a gasp and speed-read the fairly thick special edition.

It was a shocked Sirius that felt Remus wrap him in a tight manly hug. "You're free, Padfoot. I'm going to go frame this." Remus said shaking slightly, excusing himself from the room taking the paper with him.

"Harry is a _Lord_?" Hermione gasped, not lifting her eyes from the newspaper.

"Of course he is. His family is pretty old, rich, and have pretty much everything." The redhead grumbled. Sirius bit his tongue.

"Except their lives, Ron! And you know Harry would rather have a family over riches any day!"

"Well, now he has both!" The redhead snarled back, and Sirius winced as he had a flashback to Wormtail and his jealousy of Sirius and James. _Something else to talk to Harry about_. Molly quickly shushed her son as Arthur read a passage out loud.

"Albus! Thank goodness you're here! What on Earth is this about? Where is Harry? How-."

Sirius turned slightly at Molly's exclamation to see the tired looking, silver-haired Headmaster entering the kitchen. He sat at the opposite side of the table. _As far away from me as possible_ , Sirius noted with some satisfaction.

"Would it be too much to ask for a cup of tea, Molly? The strongest you have." He had the tone of a downtrodden man.

"Albus. What in Merlin's name happened at the trial?" Arthur asked gesturing to the paper that his sons and daughter were pouring over.

Molly sat a large, steaming cup of black tea in front of the Headmaster before a crash from upstairs caused her to excuse herself from the room. Sirius anxiously awaited her response to Kreacher's retrieval of the Tiaras.

"Young Harry and his Family solicitor brought the current administration to their knees. The repercussions of his actions will be hard to counter. I've summoned the rest of the Order. There is much to be discussed."

"Indeed, Headmaster Dumbledore." Sirius heard his own neck crack as he turned to the door.

Harry stood, looking all the bit a young Lord and a bit older than his 15 years. He wore casual, tailored and expensive looking robes that accentuated his body. The unhealthy skin toned, scrawny, malnourished and underdeveloped boy Sirius had met a year ago was replaced by a lean, handsome young man of medium height with a healthy glow.

Sirius had never been known for beating only one side of the bludger. And despite the fact he was looking at his own godson, Sirius felt a, definitely forbidden, sexual heat spread through him.

"HARRY!" His muggleborn friend yelled catapulting through the mass of redheads into Harry's arms.

"Mione. We saw each other just weeks ago." Harry said with a charming and warm smile. Sirius noted mentally that the two were about the same height. _Now to have Kreacher clean the broom closet on the third floor. No, the one on the first floor is better, more room for other positions._

The bushy-haired teenager suddenly burst out into tears and began hitting his godson furiously with the newspaper in her hands.

"How dare you leave me worried? I thought you were kidnapped or d-dead! Then I read that you actually **died** yesterday, and are a Lord, and are on the Wizengamot and that you were under Veritaserum, and-."

"Maybe," Sirius interrupted, "It would be better if Harry explained what happened before you beat him to death with the Prophet."

"It certainly would like to hear how you managed to accomplish all that you did last night, my boy. As well as gain entry to this house." Dumbledore said with heavy suspicion from across the table. His wand steady in his hand.

Harry pulled Hermione protectively to his side and out of the way as he faced the Headmaster's legendary wand fearlessly.

"'Even Death shan't part an Heir from his Lord', as you know, Headmaster," Harry said simply, quoting the Potter version of Olde Form.

Most Noble and Ancient Houses had versions of the same sayings that told the stories of their Magical prowess or general limitations of magic. Sirius instantly recalled the Blacks' version, _'Nought but cold, brutal death could keep a Lord from his Heir'. So cheery and uplifting_.

Dumbledore paled suddenly.

"Ah, you've noticed finally that your precious Headquarters is comprised? History has shown that the Fidelius Charm is not infallible." He chided gravely referring to either his parents or other incidents. "You should be grateful that Bellatrix Lestrange is currently locked away, and Draco is too inept, otherwise you'd be having your morning tea with old Voldy right now."

Sirius turned to Dumbledore, still furious at the old man for the oversight even though he already considered the loophole. "I thought you said the Fidelius Charm confused Family Magik!"

Other members of the Order had begun arriving. Some stared at Harry as though he were Merlin incarnate, many clutching a special edition of the Prophet in their hands. If the atmosphere in the room were not as tense, they probably would have sprung on him with questions.

"Eh, why do you have your wand pointed at Harry, Albus?" Remus said, re-entering the room and greeting Harry with a warm hug.

Dumbledore quickly stowed his wand in embarrassment. "Apparently, my research overlooked this point, Sirius."

Harry snorted. "You've been overlooking a lot these past few years."

He met the disgruntled and angry babble of the Order members in the rapidly filling room with a calm look of disdain.

"Show some respect!"

"How dare you speak to the Headmaster like that, young man!" Molly yelled reentering the room.

Sirius leaned back in his chair as Harry whispered to his bushy-haired friend - _future wife_. She looked at him in shock, went red in the face, and beamed at him before removing herself from his embrace. She went back to speed-reading the article while remaining near him.

Sirius and Remus shared a knowing smile as they remembered James doing something similar to appease Lily countless times.

"Mrs. Weasley, I dare speak to this man in whatever manner I wish, since he has taken it upon himself to ruin any chance I had at a normal life. He disregarded my parent's Will, kidnapped and imprisoned me with abusive relatives, attempted to mold me into a perfect, dumb weapon, and kept me hidden from caring family. To me, he is nothing but a conniving old man who abuses his countless positions."

"I did what I could to protect you," Dumbledore said sagely. Sirius noted a bit of magic in the air.

"You did what best fit your master plans, sir." Harry waved a hand dispassionately. "It's no matter anymore. My family has taken care of everything."

Harry returned to Molly with a withering and wintry look. "The marriage contract between Ginny and I has been nullified since Dumbledore had no right in creating it." Molly paled and slumped in her seat as many at the table looked at her in shock. "I assume this was the reason for your charity these past few years?" Molly winced, and Ginny seemed to disappear behind her hands in shock.

Sirius looked at Remus in shock. Arthur looked more than a bit confused and angry.

Before she could speak, Harry moved on. "My solicitors will be contacting you, Mr. Weasley, about this over the next few days. Hopefully, you will have time to get to the bottom of this." The balding man nodded slowly in shock.

"Anything else to destroy our family, _Lord Potter_?" Ron spat.

Harry gave him a wounded look. "Yes. You will return all money provided by the Headmaster from my trust vault for your _devoted_ friendship."

A pin drop could be heard. The redhead and his father were both struck speechless and seemed more confused by the allegation than furious.

Sirius had his grandfather's wand pointed at the red-headed family before anyone could respond. "Arthur, I think it's best if your family went back to the Burrow for a few days. I do not believe I will be able to be a good host under current conditions."

With a snap, Kreacher appeared next to his master, causing a few eyebrows to raise at his new appearance and demeanor. "Master, Kreacher has found all of the stolen Family treasures. The Tiaras are now in the vault."

Molly exploded and lunged at Sirius. "THOSE BELONG TO THE PREWITTS! YOU NO GOOD CRIMINAL!"

Arthur and his eldest son jumped as Sirius silenced and petrified his wife.

"I will escort you to the Floo, Arthur, and explain the thievery of your wife in the meantime." Sirius looked every bit the Lord of his House and brooked no argument. "Kreacher, please bring their possessions."

"Sirius, this is not the time for petty power plays. Voldemort will not take the news of Harry's exploits at the Ministry well. He might push his plans forward to gain access to the Ministry-." Dumbledore stopped abruptly as if just noticing that there were non-members in the room.

Harry gave a small laugh. "The master manipulator at his best. Carry on, Sirius. Dumbledore merely wants to ensnare me by offering bits of information to grab my interest and forcing me into his hand for the answers." Sirius glared at the now expression-less Headmaster.

He nodded to Harry and escorted the Weasleys out with Arthur floating his furious wife in front of him.

"I'll bite." Harry took Sirius' seat, which was his right as Heir when the Lord Apparent was not present, "What is so important to Voldemort in the Ministry?"

There was a bit of nervous shifting. This was not Harry the gullible teenager. This was the Potter who had shown the world that he could topple a government in a day if he so desired.

"I'm afraid, Mr. Potter, this information is only for those of age and in this Order," Dumbledore said sorrowfully yet with a cold tinge that most didn't seem to notice.

Harry, looking much like Sirius before him, leaned back amused. "By not addressing me either as Lord Potter or Heir Black shows that you do not believe I'm worthy of such titles. By mentioning that I'm not of age, you are warning the members of your group here that I'm just a child not able to handle information, and that they should not reveal anything to me… What _are_ you hiding, Headmaster?" A few people had to hide their smiles at the looks that briefly flitted over Dumbledore's face.

Harry gave the man three slow claps, "Bravo, sir. You have proven to me that you do not take me seriously and -."

"Take you seriously, ha! You are but a boy playing adult. Why don't you go upstairs and play with your toys?" One of the female members said cutting him off with oozing condescension.

Dumbledore fingered his wand as dark and heavy magic threw Emmeline Vance across the room.

"I am Lord Henry James Potter, the Potter, and Heir Black by the honor of my Family's Magik. You _dare_ interrupt me in my house." The fury in his cold green eyes bespoke his Black heritage. "Being wary of your tongue or lose it."

"Harry, what has happened to you? Attacking people, condemning innocents to death and turning your back on your friends… Tom's hold on you is strong." Dumbledore's wand was pointed back at Harry.

Harry gave a small snort. "Your self-righteousness is rather annoying, sir. Please put Gellert's wand away before you accidentally poke someone with it."

Despite his decades strong Occlumency, Dumbledore lost control of his wand, and it dropped to the table. Several members began whispering amongst themselves, edging away from the wand.

"How- Who-?" Dumbledore murmured, pale.

The tension in the room released, and Harry gave a deep belly laugh. "Maybe if you stopped being an old ass, I would tell you."

"MR. POTTER!" Harry rolled his eyes but acknowledged that he had crossed a line and gave a placating gesture to his fuming transfiguration professor.

"Now, back to Voldemort and the Ministry…" Once again no one spoke.

"Oh for Merlin's sake, tell the lad," Moody growled. "Maybe he has better ideas than _lurking_ in corridors."

"I agree," Remus said. A few other murmured in agreement before Dumbledore silenced most with a hand.

He sighed in deep disappointment and took off his glasses and if he were weary of the world.

"This information is confidential. It could mean the difference between a Voldemort-ruled world and his demise."

Harry smiled encouragingly despite the theatrics. "A brief synopsis would suffice."

It was obvious in the pause that followed that Dumbledore was mentally preparing a synopsis with the least amount of information in it.

"Bloody hell, Albus, just spit it out! I would like to eat my breakfast soon!" Snape said.

"Harry, a prophecy was made about you and Voldemort. The Ministry holds a copy of it, and we think he will try to retrieve it soon." Sirius said from the door-frame.

" _SIRIUS BLACK!_ " Dumbledore yelled furiously.

A normal man would have crumbled under Dumbledore's fury. Sirius merely shrugged.

While the "adults" yelled at Sirius, at Dumbledore and at one another - for _some_ reason - Sirius watched the black-haired teen pull out a leather pouch from his robes pocket and toss it on the table nonchalantly.

"Why didn't you just say so? _There_ is your precious prophecy." He said, his voice cutting through the noise. "... _'The one with the power to vanquish'_ and all that jazz. It wasn't much trouble to retrieve. Whoever was monitoring it yesterday didn't do a good job…"

Dumbledore emptied the pouch with shaking hands, and the bits of broken glass fell onto the table.

The silence was broken by Moody's guffaw and Sirius' booming laugh.

"Why didn't you retrieve it, sir? Your name was also on the prophecy." Harry asked, curious.

Dumbledore looked at the glass shards and then at Harry. Slowly, a brilliant smile spread on his aged face. He realized that he had been had. "I was worried that Tom would use the mental connection in your scar to get you to do it. I wanted to lure him into revealing himself to the Ministry, and hoped to protect you from harm, Lord Potter."

Harry nodded, appreciative of the honest answer and the use of his proper title.

"We, that is to say, my Australian cousins and I, assumed as much."

Dumbledore's smile grew, and he leaned forward. "This shouldn't be necessary now since you've alerted the Wizengamot to his return, without him knowing that they know." The man's blue eyes seemed to glow as he finally grasped the depth of Harry's strategic maneuvering. "You've also removed any chance Tom has of gaining a footing in the Ministry by removing his supporters."

Harry merely smiled. "My family did most of the work."

Sirius had never been so proud of his godson. Harry could have gloated or raged at Dumbledore for being a manipulative old goat, but he merely asked for breakfast which Kreacher happily provided for the table.

As breakfast was being served, Harry answered, directly or evasively, questions about his summer. His friend must have smelled the interrogation because she came out of her reading stupor just as it began to get answers to some of her questions.

Harry confessed to Potter Magik being the cause of his physical changes. Sirius assumed Time Travel. He remembered Prongs Sr. mentioning how one ancestor had tampered with time and somehow merged Time Magic into the Potter Line, at the cost of his own life. Harry's girlfriend asked about the funeral service of his relatives. Harry pulled out a planner - a gift from the girl, judging by the sparkling of her eyes - and made a note to himself.

He asked how his owl was. Hermione mentioned she had been using Hedwig to mail her parents more frequently. Sirius was somewhat confused by the awe on Harry's face at that confession.

"Send Hedwig with a letter to me, please," Harry said remorsefully. "I think she's been avoiding me since I returned two days ago for leaving her here when I went to see my family. I will have to get some healing potions ready for when she punishes me." Those familiar with Hedwig's attitude shared a small laugh at his expense.

Dumbledore watched the young man with what Sirius believed was appreciation and something else shining in his eyes. Sirius, who had taken a seat next to his godson not bothering to take back the head seat, watched Dumbledore subtly. He was finding it harder and harder to trust the man he once had never questioned.

Towards the end of the meal, and after a few not so clever comments about Harry, Vance jumped up from her seat and quickly excused herself from the room.

Sirius winced as he noticed the blue tinge of her eggs. Kreacher's laxative pranks were well-known back when he was younger. _No one ate at the Blacks and insulted the Family._

Harry cleared his throat suddenly. "I must return to my Uncle Virgil and cousins. We are finalizing the last of our plans for Voldemort and his Munchers, which I have to present to the Ministry in two days." Snape visibly shuddered across the table though Sirius wasn't sure if it was due to Harry using snakeface's name, his nickname for the Death Eaters, or that Harry had _more_ plans in the works. "I hope to be back soon. If it is OK with you, I shall bring a few people with me."

Dumbledore nodded solemnly yet he made no attempt to hold Harry. Sirius knew, as did the others, that any previous guardianship over Harry was rendered null and void by his Lordship. "What do you have planned?"

Harry's departing smile lit up the room. "We are going to crush the bastard. Completely and utterly." With his bushy-haired friend on his arm, Harry swept from the room.

Sirius sipped his tea contently as everyone chatted excitedly. A feeling of hope had settled in the room. Harry's female friend returned to the room, her nose buried in a huge tome, though Sirius had not missed her lingering glance at his godson's arse in the fitted robes as they departed together moments before.

 _I definitely didn't look_ , he thought with conviction.

However, if he hadn't been staring at his godson's arse, he would have noticed Bill Weasley, the only remaining Weasley in the room, staring at him in absence of his French girlfriend's allure. He would have also noticed Remus staring longingly at his cousin Nymphadora or Kreacher sprinkling the prophecy's glass shards cleaned from the table onto Emmeline Vance's seat with a small cackle of evil delight.

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Here's a small treat as thanks for the positive response to the story!

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Two men dressed in midnight black appeared out of nowhere before the Little Whinging Cemetery. The son of the caretaker, Robert Hess, blinked in surprise, shook his head before putting down his beer.

He followed the two men at a distance. Normally people did not come to the cemetery during this part of the day.

The two men stopped at the three freshest graves. Hess felt a cold bead of sweat run down his back. The mysterious death of the Dursleys had been determined to be caused by a gas pipe leakage. One of their neighbors, however, swore she had heard awful screams and pleas for mercy.

Many neighbors assumed it had something to do with the delinquent nephew that Vernon Dursley always ranted about.

Hess, who had only been 19 at that time, decided to go get his father since he was sure that the men were here to vandalize. He made to turn when one of the men waved a stick and a bottle of water appeared in his hands like _magic_. Hess' blood ran cold.

He had heard stories about the devilish delinquent, and how he managed to do unnatural things like appearing on top of buildings and changing people's hair colors.

Hess' assumption was proven accurate as one of the men lowered his hood. The wicked, wild raven hair and unnaturally green eyes were not to be overlooked. No one truly believed those stories since magic obviously did not exist.

The young man poured the bottle of water over the three graves and said with a small sigh, "I always keep my promises."*

The two men then disappeared with a small crack. Hess promptly fainted and was revived by his angry father.

Fifteen years and much counseling later, Hess sang a small canticle as he finished preparing a grave for an elderly woman who passed and met her Lord the day before when he noticed a weirdly dressed family of four stop before the Dursley graves. The teenager in the group was toying with a glowing, clear ball and ignoring his surroundings.

"Papa, why do we have to come here every year?"

The man, whose eyes and hair had not changed a bit over the years, smiled down at the child holding his hand. "Papa made a promise."

The bonny looking woman, Hess assumed was the formerly little Devil's wife, waved a stick and a bottle of water appeared out of nowhere. This small wonder did not seem to surprise anyone in the small family.

Hess felt as if the Earth shook beneath his feet. So many therapists had told him he had dreamed up the weird ritual in the graveyard all those years ago, linking the dream to excessive alcoholism, working in the graveyard at too young an age and to the premature death of his mother. He gave up drinking, took up carpentry and then married a beautiful Londoner a year ago.

Today, his father managed to hurt his hip so Robert was shoveling in his stead.

The wild-haired man poured the contents of the bottle onto the three graves before the bottle disappeared into thin air. He looked around the graveyard before he spotted Hess. With a short wave to the pale caretaker, the green-eyed man disappeared with a small pop, taking his family with him.

After a few minutes alone, Hess threw down his shovel. "Fuck this shite!" He needed his first beer in many years.

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AN: To answer a few questions:

 **How did Harry get so "lordy"?** No, this did not happen overnight. Nor is he being lordy for lordy's sake. It might seem like a chapter is missing between 4 and 5, because it is. This chapter, however, was too detailed and boring. I decided to break it down and introduce the reader to the "Transformation" of Harry over next few chapters, so by Chapter 12 - where shit gets real - you have the information you need to properly process "The Betrayal" :P small teaser there.

 **Super powerful, indestructible, unflappable, god-like, etc. Harry?** Nope, been there, done that: i.e. in my story _In the Midst of it All._ Even there, I tried to make Harry a tragic hero from Greek Mythology and nearly failed as I got to the sequel. It's rather overdone and few manage to keep it tolerable when they do this... In this story, Harry will get hurt, will be human(e), will be a fighter who learns from his mistakes and gets a lot of help from his family.

 **Potter History and Traditions** : I realized when trying to finish another story that JKR never really allowed Harry to research or find his family. And this background was missing in my own stories. I spent three months envisioning the Potter History: love, betrayal, hurt, duty, jobs, marriages, deaths, etc. At the end of this story - in, oh, twelve chapters - I will issue a challenge to fellow authors to use my rather thorough history of the Potter Family and have fun with it. I have two stories on the back-burner: one where Harry is taken in early on by the French side of his family - because one is a seer and saw a horrible, possible future for Harry (which is my other story _One with Magic_ ) - and one where Henriette is sent to Hogwarts.

* Harry made a promise to the Dursleys in chapter two.

 **Betaed by** Marc the Unruly


	8. Chapter 8: Reoccurring Potter History

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 **Chapter Eight: Reoccuring Potter History  
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It took Harry some days to find the time to get back to Grimmauld Place.

Between meetings at Gringotts with the Goblins, brain-numbing discussions with solicitors and secret sessions of the Wizengamot, he found himself very put out and exhausted by the time he received Dumbledore's plea for an update on the fight against Voldemort.

He sent a message to Dumbledore that he would be there at 7 pm, though he knew he could be using the time more wisely.

He wanted to leave the old man in the dark since Dumbledore had done so to him for years, yet his Uncle Virgil gently persuaded him to see reason and use for the old man. Their research into horcruxes had hit the proverbial wall. His cousin Franklin Cecil, also known as FC, was the Australian version of an Unspeakable and Head of the Australian Magical Research department and was leading the search.

FC and his brother, Law Wizard and Professor Milton Arnold, exhausted themselves in digging up all they could on horcruxes. After Uncle Virgil had shown Harry how to open and key people into the wards of the ridiculously luxurious Potter Manor and other properties, Harry set up a war room in the Lord's Study on the fifth floor of the manor, and his cousins expanded their research in the Potter Library. Those two were worse than Hermione doing exams and physically threw Harry from the room more than once.

Harry looked at the pocket watch that he retrieved from the Lord's Study. It read 6:57 pm on one side, and on the other:

 _Charles James Potter_

Harry sighed and made his way robotically to the Floo. He quickly downed a Pepper-Up Potion, his third today. He nodded in passing to his cousin Andrew Edgar Jr. and Andrew's gorgeous fiancée Maeve de la Cruz, a Veela of Spanish origin. They were freshly engaged and looking to host their wedding at the Manor in the summer.

Harry made a mental note to talk to his cousin Henriette about sending out the marriage notices. Henriette decided to take it upon herself to plan the Potter Family Yuletide gathering for all Potters worldwide. Harry _may_ have tricked her into it, but it was her fault for betting against him and his broom in their last race under the time bubble.

When Uncle Virgil strongly encouraged him to declare the Fireside Chat magically, Harry thought it would only be an evening of talking and discussing the future. He definitely wasn't prepared to have his magic sucked out of him for a time bubble. He laid unconscious under magical exhaustion for three bubble days before the actual Fireside Chat began. The two actual weeks, just over two magicked years, spent in the bubble were the best and hardest two years of his life, filled with Potter History, Potter Magik, re-education to Potter Standards, and so much more.

He threw a handful of Floo powder into the fireplace, followed the 'call' using the Black Family Magik to Sirius and stepped through to Grimmauld Place.

He expanded his magical senses upon arrival - a wandless beacon spell - and noted that everyone was in the sitting room on the first floor. He made his way up the stairs and nearly fell on his face as he sensed an evil, familiar presence in the broom closet, which served as the house elf's quarters.

Dark magic was to be expected in the Black Family House. Deciding to mull over the familiarity of the evil presence later, Harry righted himself and continued up the stairs.

He remembered then that he had wanted to bring his uncle and cousins with him. Uncle Virgil was back at the Potter Country Home in Melbourne, recovering from the two weeks - two years - under the time bubble and the subsequent week he spent in England. _Time Magik at his age is definitely detrimental to one's health._ Most of his Australian cousins went home as well, back to work and those who were able to sacrifice a bit of their summer were assessing the English properties, buying house elves and managing minor aspects of the Estate. He allowed his cousins Orville Jonas and Jonas Gascon Potter to look over the Potter Holdings, funds and the financial part of the Estate with the Goblins.

Orville was a mathematician and Master Arithmancer and the snobby Jonas seemed to be heading in the investments direction. The two of them impressed Harry and the Goblins so much with their assessments and portfolio suggestions that Harry decided to give them more authority. Harry merely reserved the right to receive regular reports and the final say/signature. His delegation of the investments in both magical and non-mag worlds to Jonas was met with some skepticism from other cousins due to the blonde's age, but if the blond managed it, he would make himself and the Family a lot of gold.

 _Plus, he stopped sneering at me every day._

When he opened the door to, what he assumed to be, the Family sitting room, Harry felt a wave of welcoming magic wash over him. The Black Family Magik reached out to greet him like a long-lost family member. _I wonder if Sirius feels something similar._

He knew how Sirius felt about his family. Maybe the magic repulsed him or harmed him spitefully. Family Magik could be tricky, as he had learned.

"Lord Potter! Right on time." Dumbledore greeted so cheerfully that the hair on the back of Harry's neck rose.

"Alone, I see," Sirius said wrapping him in a slightly uncomfortable hug. Harry felt a tinge of _something_ as the hug lingered a moment or two too long. Sirius' gaze at their reunion days before had not escaped his notice. He made a mental note to find the old dog something to hump before he started leaving viscid stains everywhere.

"My uncle is feeling under the weather and my cousins are taking care of Family Business." No more explanation was given or needed.

It was not socially acceptable or safe to ask or offer details on Family Business, as Harry learned from Uncle Virgil. Duels to the death had been fought even between Potter family members for revealing too much information. Because someone revealed where the Family was staying, leading to the Conflagration of 1883, Uncle Virgil's father and uncle had battled for hours until his father dealt the fatal blow to Henry Potter. It was revealed later on through Henry Potter's hidden journals that Hardwin Potter had falsely and purposely accused his older brother of starting the fire that killed most of the Potters, in order to gain the Lordship. It was nowadays an open secret that Hardwin Potter instigated the fire that destroyed all but three members of the Potter Family, due to his aspirations for _rejuvenating_ the Potter Family.

 _I wonder what Hardwin's portrait would say to that._ His stern-looking ancestor's portrait never said anything to anyone about that part of Potter Family history.

So immersed was he in the dark side of his family history that Harry completely missed a question Dumbledore posed three times.

"Apologies. I was elsewhere."

He excused himself and took a seat near Remus on a rather worn out couch.

Dumbledore repeated his questions with the patience of a man with decades of experience in dealing with unfocused teens.

"You mentioned a plan to get rid of Tom?"

Harry nodded. His back straightened automatically. He had practically internalized the rhetoric and the public speaking strategies of his grandfather from Pensieve memories. He looked at each person confidently and briefly in the eye to create a layer of trust. He pulled out his wand, conjured a simple one-meter by one-meter sheet of paper, stood up and started.

Three words were magicked onto the page: _Financial, Political, Magical_.

"We had planned with one of the Death Munchers on the Wizengamot attacking me to keep their name from being revealed. Those members present were, according to the Karkaroff Trial, snakeface's main financiers. They opened their pretty much inexhaustible coffers to their master for recruitment, research material, mercenaries, gifts and offerings to gain the allegiance of Dark Creatures and necessities like rare potion ingredients, portkeys, and loans with laughable interest rates for financially troubled families if they declared themselves to snakeface."

Harry wrote the name of the main financiers under the headline: Nott, Malfoy, Black, Selwyn and Avery.

Sirius shifted in his seat at the sight of his family's name.

"My discussions with the Goblins didn't reveal much. So, without bankrupting the Potter coffers, I provided them with a list of known Death Munchers - the richest of them - and asked them to merely nod if the Families had ever 'donated' to the Slytherin vault." Harry paused as some members began to murmur. He waited patiently until they were done while admonishing himself for losing his flow and jumping topics.

"A step back if you will. The Slytherin Vault was inactive until the 1940's around the time snakeface began gathering followers. The link between the two is irrefutable-."

"Why does that matter?" A slightly youngish member asked.

Snape snorted and answered for Harry. "The Founders Vaults are considered the foundation and official gold reserves of Gringotts and - dare I say - our entire, gold specie based economy. Should one be emptied, it would mean inflation, a steeper exchange rate, higher prices…"

Harry picked up the conversation from that ominous point. "Leading to revolt, emigration and most likely the first Goblin revolt of this century. There are however other factors in play and some safeguards in place. I will come back to the Slytherin Vault in a moment."

He wrote 'Slytherin Vault' underneath the names of the Death Eaters.

"Information on donations is public record. Each of the Death Eaters or their families listed here have contributed nearly a million galleons to the cause three or four times over the course of four decades, hidden as harmless donations 'for the restoration of the Slytherin Legacy'." The aghast whispers were understandable since the Ministry of Magic's annual budget amounted to two to three million galleons.

Dumbledore even looked shocked.

"So, if snakeface had wanted, he could have created a rebel government on these shores without breaking the bank or economy."

"You speak past tense." Dumbledore inquired quickly.

Harry gave a small smile. "My trial threw quite a few things for a loop. All of the sitting members of the Wizengamot with Death Muncher affiliations were placed under arrest or convicted of and fined for treason. Their funds have been frozen and whatever is found to be contributed to the "treasonous cause" will - by the laws of our forefathers - be forfeited to the Ministry."

"But donations cannot be retracted." Bill Weasley interjected.

"Which means the money will be taken from their vaults or seized through their material possessions. This will greatly deplete the coffers of Voldemort's financiers." Harry stated, annoyed with the interruption.

The redhead continued, visibly annoyed that he had been cut off despite having done the same to Harry. "That still leaves You Know Who with millions of galleons - if not more."

"From the Slytherin Vault?" Harry asked slowly, to which some members of the Order nodded. "The main safeguard of the Founder Vaults requires that all living direct Heirs be in accordance to remove funds from one or all of the vaults. Should there be disagreement, the oath-bound Hogwarts Headmaster acts as mediator or tie-breaker."

Dumbledore's eyes widened as if he were unaware of the rule.

"The Founders Heirs met only once during the Goblin Rebellion of 1249 to re-stabilize the economy, and then only incognito as not to alert the world of their presence. Voldemort was very aware of this stipulation and more likely did more fruitful research into the Legacies of the Founders than _any_ historian before him."

"We are not sure how he came across such accurate knowledge of the descendants. We _are_ sure though that he meticulously murdered any actual and suspected direct Heirs between his years in Hogwarts up until his defeat in 1981. Beginning with his own family members and Hepzibah Smith, Heir of Hufflepuff, following his Hogwarts graduation. He carried on until he ended the McKinnons, Heirs of Ravenclaw, and my father, Heir of Gryffindor."

Surprising the lot of them, Dumbledore gasped loudly, his mind processing the information at a speed that Harry was truly jealous of. Harry heard the man whisper, " _Neither can live while the other survives."_

Harry decided to shut that train of thought down quickly. "When Iolanthe Peverell married my great-great-grandfather in 1883, she not only brought the land her family owned in Godric's Hollow, but also the secondary Heirship of Godric Gryffindor. This passed to my father after snakeface killed the last of the Whitewaters, although neither he nor Voldemort knew."

"And how do you know?" Professor McGonagall asked slowly.

Harry sent out his magic and called the Sword of Gryffindor to his hand where it appeared a moment later. "This was a dead giveaway." He said setting the heavy, glittering sword down careful on a nearby spindle table and ignoring the gasps and forward shuffling to get a closer look at the legendary sword. "Headmaster Dumbledore once told me only a _true_ Gryffindor could summon the sword from its hiding place. And he was, of course, correct." He sent a pulse of magic at the sword, and it went back to its display case or to the Sorting Hat. He didn't want his audience distracted by the sword. _Merlin forbid someone touches the Basilisk venom-infused blade!_

"So, You-Know-Who put all of his eggs in one inaccessible basket?" Harry nodded at Remus' succinct summarization.

"He also missed a few Legacy Lines like the Potters and Longbottoms for Gryffindor, the Jones for Hufflepuff, and the remaining Heirs of Helena Ravenclaw - who have decided to remain incognito."

Harry drew a large red line through all of the points under _Financial._

"And we will know once Tom is aware of his mistake since he will most likely attack the first individuals in reach: the Goblins."

The old man turned swiftly and looked pointedly at Bill Weasley. "We should reach out to them soon and present some of this information to them."

Harry coughed politely into his hand. "The Goblins are already aware. My cousins presented this to their British leader a few days back." Dumbledore's beard twitched, and he leaned back in his chair as if to say 'well done, carry on'. His apparent acceptance of Harry's new position in the magical world, especially in the Order, made it easier for the elder Order members to accept and digest this information from him.

After a beat, Harry continued, "Snakeface's main financiers are also his political bastion. Revealing and getting rid of them reduced his political power. This, coupled with a small exposé in the Daily Prophet on his non-magical background, would crumble and destroy his pureblood rapport."

There were more than a few baffled looks in Dumbledore's direction. "Ingenious! I never considered such a course."

 _Of course not_ , Harry thought with an internal eye roll. His smile tightened slightly as he considered all that the old man could have prevented if he has not played his cards so close, but he doubted any of the others noticed. He gave Dumbledore a small nod and continued.

He drew a small red line through _Political_. "Snakeface gathered or planted a number of followers - blackmailed, willing and imperiused "sleepers" - in various positions at the Ministry, St. Mungos and in the Board of Governors. Had he successfully killed me in 1981, his infiltration of the Britain would have seen the country fall into his hands within one to five years."

Dumbledore nodded gravely.

"Yes, Tom took inspiration from muggle subterfuge warfare. He carried out targeted attacks while simultaneously spreading his influence." Some of the newer members seemed shocked at how close they had come to a Voldemort-ruled world.

"Luckily, my discussions within various Wizengamot meetings since my... trial have been successful. Voldemort cannot control people in any of these institutions if wards were added to alert the DMLE of the presence of an individual with the Dark Mark, in Animagus form, under the Polyjuice potion, a glamor charm or under any mind-control spell or potion in various buildings and business centres."

Dumbledore blushed slightly. Hogwarts had such wards. At one of the Wizengamot sessions, he had been essentially raked over the coals for not having noticed Pettigrew or other Animagi on Hogwarts grounds and for failing to notice Barty Crouch Jr. polyjuiced infiltration.

Though Dumbledore had gotten away with a warning slap on the wrist, many - in smaller subsequent sessions - declared him to be too old and spread thin to hold the weight of such wards.

Others, Harry including, believed that Dumbledore had changed the ward structure to best fit his goals, especially in regard to Harry, or continuously ignored the alerts of the wards over the years. Harry planned with Chief Witch Madame Marchbanks, Head of the DMLE Madame Bones and Interim Minister Augusta Longbottom to have the school wards assessed at a time when Voldemort was not looming in the shadows.

"The wards, that are being constructed, would incapacitate by stunning and alerting the DMLE," Harry said with a brief glance at Snape.

"That is what we tried to push in the 70s, but You-Know-Who had already infiltrated," Moody growled out. "We lost many good people senselessly then."

"What of Gringotts?" Bill asked suddenly. "They have such ward mechanisms already. Maybe they would be willing to re-ward some areas."

Harry winced slightly. "As simple as it sounds, delegating the task to the Goblins is not wise." He looked guiltily towards a rapidly writing Hermione, whose presence at the meeting Dumbledore had used to assure Harry's attendance and compliance.

"Goblins are ambivalent to wizard affairs by nature. If, and only if, Voldemort were to attack them and succeed, would they declare war on wizards." He raised a hand to halt the questions for those who caught his hidden message. "Yes, they could then declare war on _all_ British Wizards, although they assured us they wouldn't. I, personally, take this with a grain of salt. They simply are not trustworthy."

Dumbledore interrupted, suddenly disappointed with Harry. "Goblins have been our allies for nearly two centuries. I would never have expected you to adopt such a… pure-blooded stance on them."

"Harry! How could you say something like that!" Hermione gasped along with a few others. Other members seemed to silently agree with his observation.

Harry let the rest of the admonishing wash over him and cleared his throat impatiently.

"It is not within Goblin nature to have stagnation or long periods of peace. Just five ago, the Goblin King in Britain was assassinated by one of his rivals, who then replaced him, for the security breach in a high-security vault." Harry's eyes lingered on a slightly abated but generally unimpressed Dumbledore, whose game with the Philosopher's Stone led to the bloody putsch.

"It is not acceptable in Goblin culture to have peace at the cost of change, improvement and - more importantly - gold and profit. I made the mistake of mentioning the idea to have Goblin wards installed everywhere near the painting of one of my ancestors who had been a teenager during the last two successive Goblin rebellions in 1752 and 1760. Linfred Potter was furious that I would even consider giving Goblins access to our most important buildings. He taught and reminded me that even when a peace treaty has been signed, and although the wizarding governments tended to adhere to the treaties, a new Goblin could declare himself King and not face any consequences for breaking oath for the betterment of his Kingdom. For example Urg the Unclean in 1760."

He paused to catch his breath. "That being said, the Unspeakables are researching and developing multiple ward schemes as we speak… We will ultimately restrict snakeface's ability to mobilize his followers." _Which are already being installed_ , he added silently.

"What of the Dementors, Giants, and werewolves?" Sirius asked softly. "Will the wards restrict access to them since they supported Voldemort last time?"

Remus looked paled at the question. Harry bit his lip. "The wards are for wizards only."

"That's outrageous!"

"We can't have then added to the wards?"

"They are just as dangerous!"

"Adding werewolves to the wards would inhibit the movement of innocent people, and _that_ is against the law," Harry said tightly. "The wards would also inhibit innocent people with a half-giant heritage like Hagrid."

The stunned silence was rather funny to Harry. _So eager and lazy to give an entire race of greedy, unpredictable warriors access to the hospital, government and business centres, yet unyielding in their age-old racism towards law-abiding citizens and semi-sentient beings._

"And since Dementors are an essential part of our criminal justice system, banning them could hinder the DMLE in apprehending serious criminals."

Sirius burst out into laughter. " _Serious_ criminals! Good one, pup!" It took a moment but Harry was soon laughing with his godfather at the pun. Others soon joined in.

Once everyone calmed down, Harry continued with a less tense audience, grateful for the comic relief.

"Magically defeating or even hindering Voldemort is more challenging. We have three methods of attacking him: through his Mark, through the blood that he took from me and through my scar." He listed _Mark, Blood,_ and _Scar_ on the board.

Dumbledore shifted slightly as Harry wrote _Scar_ with a pleased look on his face. He gave Harry an encouraging smile that bordered condescension. _Hook, line and sinker,_ Harry thought with a rather satisfied smirk plastered on his face.

"The Dark Mark is the only known direct, magical link to Voldemort. It is, of course, a tether with which he can call, find, punish and even, we believe, kill his servants." The rumble of disbelief in the room caused Harry to pause again.

"We assumed as much, but we never had proof last time," Moody grumbled.

"With so many Death Eaters now in custody, we have never had the opportunity to study the Mark in such depth," Harry said with a nod of acknowledgment to Moody. "One of the reasons why there was no proof last time was the internal obstruction and the sabotage of the experiments which were both carried out by Death Eater Unspeakable Augustus Rookwood."

This was news to Moody. Harry noticed his eyes narrowing at the news before he motioned for Harry to continue.

"According to his testimony from the lengthy retrial from a few days ago, Rookwood also confounded many Unspeakables when they began researching Voldemort's origin. Voldemort's family, for some reason, was unknown before." He briefly narrowed his eyes at Dumbledore. "The burial place of his non-magical father and paternal family is known, due to his recent resurrection. His mother, though a witch of squib caliber, was nevertheless buried as a muggle. Her burial place is being located. His maternal grandfather and uncle's corpses have been excavated…"

Noticing the lost looks, Harry continued patiently. "The ritual that snakeface used to gain a body included the bone of his _father_ , a blood sacrifice of his willing servant and the blood, given unwillingly, of his enemy - me. In order to counter that, we need the bones of his maternal side, an offering from a repentant servant and the blood, willingly given, by the same enemy." Dumbledore's self-satisfied smile had vanished. Such a ritual was obviously not known to him.

"The Unspeakables are reaching out, by means of my uncle's connections, to their counterparts in the Australian and American wizarding governments for other options and to double-check their calculations."

Harry drew a red line with his wand through _Dark Mark_ and _Blood_.

He quickly steeled his face to remove any suspicious and revealing facial expressions, as his Uncle Virgil had taught him before he turned back to the group.

"My scar is - _was_ shrouded in mystery. It obviously connected me to Voldemort. Hell, it was better than any beacon spell my first year when it warned me of snakeface's presence. It was an obvious connection to the bastard." Dumbledore seemed to hold his breath, his gaze intensely boring into Harry. "Fortunately, or - depending on who you ask - unfortunately, Malfoy's curse destroyed the connection according to the Unspeakables and my uncle."

Harry saw Moody, Dumbledore, and a few others relax in their seats, most likely for different reasons. Snape and Sirius seemed to tense. Harry drew a line through _Scar_.

"This is the _official_ stance of the Ministry, the DMLE, and all those involved. Together we will bring Voldemort to his knees and present any chance of another resurrection." Harry said forcing magic into his voice. Many sat up straighter in their seats. "His reign of terror will soon end before he can pick up from where he left off."

Dumbledore stood and began clapping. He was quickly joined by the rest of the Order. Harry bowed his head in amusement but showing only slight embarrassment.

Dumbledore took over the meeting from there, donning out instructions to his Order members in order to make sure the Ministry's plan was carried out.

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* * *

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Harry shook a few hands and simply ignored the rest of the meeting. Inwardly, he was secretly pleased. Despite being unnaturally tired and overwhelmed by the numerous meetings and discussions, he had managed to spin a somewhat credible plan of action. He mentally patted himself on the back for his subterfuge.

It was indeed the official plan of the Ministry. If Dumbledore decided to fact-check, most likely with the liberal use of illegal Legilimency, he would find that Harry had offered his Order a more detailed version than anyone else had.

Harry had, however, left out much. It had been unanimously agreed upon by him and his family not to throw Dumbledore any bones regarding the horcruxes or other plans not mentioned to the Ministry. The Headmaster obviously had his own plans and information that he refused to share either with Harry or in the selective war sessions he had been invited to.

As the meeting ran out of steam following Snape's reports, Harry quickly excused himself before Dumbledore could corner him and make him slip up. He believed the old man had a good heart and golden intentions, but his horrible methods had destroyed more than one life. Harry knew that if the man interrogated him, he would most likely reveal and ruin the plans his family had due to lack of sleep.

So intent was Harry on avoiding Dumbledore that he literally ran into Sirius.

"Whoa, kiddo!" The thinner man said, steadying Harry with outstretched hands on at the base of the staircase. "Come here. There's something I want to show you."

"I'm sorry, Sirius. I'm not at all interested in meeting _Little Padfoot_ ," Harry said seriously but allowed the man to lead him away from the stairs. "I would happily look into finding you a girl or guy to have fun with."

"Ha ha," Sirius said without humor. Remus, who had apparently been following them, burst out laughing. "Shut up, Moony!"

"It's not my fault that you look ready to hump your mother's umbrella stand." The werewolf deadpanned.

Sirius flushed red. With averted eyes, he murmured, "I'm not that obvious, or desperate!"

"You are too!" Harry and Remus said in unison before looking at one another and sharing a chuckle at Sirius' expense.

"Well laugh it up! I'd like to see either of you go over a decade without sex." He growled, sounding every bit the Grim he could turn into at will.

"Not everyone is as sexually… addicted as you, Padfoot." Remus said as Sirius opened the door to a small sitting room on the ground floor.

Harry suddenly had an inkling of what was going on as he saw Snape, Bill, and Hermione waiting more or less patiently on him. Sirius' last letter had informed him of the Order dissenters' opinion of Dumbledore's methods and leadership. Harry wondered briefly why Hermione was there, but he assumed that Sirius invited her to make Harry feel more at ease.

Snape, as soon as Remus closed the door, began casting a number of spells to prevent any eavesdropping. Hermione looked close to drooling at the man's spell repertoire and at the number of unknown spells. Harry saw her internal turmoil, wanting to discuss the spells with Snape but simultaneously wanting to question Harry.

As soon as Snape finished and nodded to Sirius, it was surprisingly Bill who broke the silence.

"What are you hiding from us?" Bill asked hotly. "Your little speech was riveting and all, but there were definitely holes in your story."

Harry sighed. He looked quickly at his grandfather's watch. It was nearing midnight. _I definitely won't get any sleep tonight. Henriette wants to chat too._

"I wish to get some sleep guys. Can this-."

"No!" All four said in unison.

Harry nodded, understanding how it felt to be left in the dark. _And if Snape is truly a spy as Uncle FC believes, then he needed to make sure the side his life was depending on will win._

"Where would you like for me to start?" Harry asked seating himself.

Hermione interrupted Bill. "You have changed, Harry. I want to know how and why." A bit of fear crept into her voice. "Did you use… _Dark Magik_?"

Harry turned to Snape. "How secure is this room?"

The man outwardly showed no surprise at the sudden question. "To the best of my abilities." He snipped. Harry held up a hand in a peace gesture.

"Ok. Give me a second to think."

He immediately waved his wand and conjured a piece of paper. He used his wand to write the following message.

 _Please check our persons and the room for listening, tracking, and other spying charms._

Snape's eyes widened before he did just that. A lamp in the corner, Sirius' left shoe, Hermione's hair clip and small items in the room lit up under his revealing spells.

Harry wrote another message underneath his first.

 _Sirius. Family Magik to seal the room._

Sirius' eyebrows rose in shock. He obviously hadn't thought of that.

"I, Sirius Orion Black, seal this room against any Family Foreign Magik."

An ocean blue mist spread from his wand and covered the entire room. The fire in the hearth flashed a similar blue hue signaling the Floo had shut down before returning its previous fiery red. Each of the items that Snape's revealing spells had uncovered - and a few that his spell had missed - were covered in the same blue mist and stayed that way.

Harry nodded.

"Despite the grey nature of my family, I've encountered nothing Dark. We have to be careful with labeling. The previous Ministry administrations declare all magic which they can't monitor, use, or tax as 'Dark'."

Hermione looked more than appalled at the politicization of magic. "They can't do th-."

Bill growled. "Welcome to the real world, girl! Can we continue?" Hermione flinched. Her concepts of justice and right were being viciously destroyed.

Harry's wand slid from its holster into his palm.

"I'm not sure what your problem is, but you are more than welcome to leave if you can't control your brutish ways."

Bill reddened and nodded curtly. The redhead sent a slightly fearful look at Sirius who was palming his wand and who had spoken out at an earlier Order meeting about the crimes his mother committed against the Blacks before he forced the rest of the Weasleys out of Grimmauld Place. Only Bill and his father were granted provisional admission.

Harry smiled suddenly, sheathing his wand. "There was Time Magik involved-."

"Oh, Harry! Time Magik is dangerous! What if you changed the future? What if you saw yourself again? You could have caused a time paradox!"

Snape, though visibly annoyed by her interruption, nodded in agreement.

Harry was suddenly very angry. "I am not here for an interrogation on the ways and methods of my family." He snarled. "Since there are no apparent tears in the timeline continuum, we can assume that everything succeeded as it should have."

Hermione was never one to give up easily. "But Harry! The ramifications might not even be immediate or -."

Harry interrupted her as softly as he could, though the steel in his voice made her shiver. "This is not the first or last time Time Magik will be used in my family. Move on, Hermione. I have asked for neither your opinion nor your recommendations for events that have already come to pass."

Hermione's affronted response was cut off by Snape. "Leave it, Miss Granger! We don't have time for such childish blather."

Hermione's respect for the man and his position as her professor of four years made her pause and stiffly nod. Her eyes promised Harry a second round to adequately give him her opinion. He shuddered slightly.

"As I said, there was Time Magik involved. Within this… _time bubble_ , my family and I reviewed my knowledge of the Wizarding World, my interactions within it, my knowledge of the Families I head or are connected to, etc." He decided to skip the spell and political knowledge. "There was a frightening amount that I didn't know or was not told."

He waved a hand to stall Bill's interruption. "We ultimately came to the conclusion that Dumbledore and those who _blindly_ follow him did not want me to know many of these things for multiple reasons. One of those reasons being the opportunity to utilize my money, political power, or myself for personal, political or other gains. This became clear, for example, as I went over our financial matters with my Gringotts account manager and my great-granduncle, and noticed unauthorized withdrawals by Mrs. Weasley as well as the unauthorized betrothal agreement between Dumbledore and Molly Prewitt for mine and Ginny's future wedding." Bill suddenly looked rather uncomfortable.

"I've come to the conclusion that each interaction I had with the Wizarding World was carefully thought out and planned. From Hagrid's introduction to bumping into the Weasleys on my way to Platform 9 and ¾. The question was why." He noticed Snape's eyes flicker to his scar. Harry merely smiled at him.

"To cut this short: Dumbledore heard a prophecy about a child being born who could defeat snakeface. In the midst of a bloody civil war, this was a blessing to him. He didn't directly manipulate anything in fear of counteracting the prophecy, at least to my knowledge. I do not believe he knew that Pettigrew was a traitor. I also don't believe he willingly set my parents up to be murdered. However, I am an optimist, and this could all change if he were questioned until Veritaserum. Most of my Australian family believes otherwise."

Harry wiped his tired eyes with his hand. He and his cousins had argued for days under the time bubble before they agreed to disagree until more information could be gathered. Harry's gut feeling told him that Dumbledore had merely let things happen - which in itself was a crime. _One man can only morally do so much with an apparently endless war raging._

"I'm obliged to agree with both perspectives," Remus said. "I was with Dumbledore when he learned about James and Lily's deaths. He was physically stricken with grief. He excused himself immediately afterward, but he appeared genuinely saddened."

"But he was the one to recommend the Fidelius Charm. He most likely assumed that I was the traitor in the Order and figured that I would lead to the prophecy being fulfilled. Killing two Kneazles with one spell." Sirius said very calmly. Harry figured he was using Occlumency to control his emotions.

"That is also plausible," Harry said. "Regardless, Dumbledore definitely knew two things following my parents' deaths: Voldemort was not dead, and I hosted a piece of Voldemort's soul in my scar." Hermione gasped. While everyone else reacted to the news, Snape looked relieved to know that Harry knew.

"WHAT? I'll kill the manipulative goat!" Sirius growled, looking ready to storm from the room. Harry slowly slid his wand out of its holster in case he had to petrify his godfather.

"Voldemort did as he claimed he would and achieved temporary immortality. He created several horcruxes - accidentally seven so far."

Snape paled. "So far?" He repeated, shocked.

Hermione, obviously worried by the fearful reactions, asked, "What are horcruxes?"

"Horcruxes, or soul jars, are items that hold fragments of a soul to anchor a person to this realm," Bill said in an experienced though shaky tone. "Egyptians were some of the first to document the process which usually includes the remorseless death of an innocent." _That would explain his knowledge._

Hermione paled at the information. Harry could see the wheels in her head turning rapidly. "As you probably know best, Hermione, magic has boundaries. Most of these can be proven with Arithmancy. Voldemort pushed, and overstepped, those boundaries as he created his fourth horcrux. Three is a powerfully magical number. When he came to kill me, his soul was already damaged by his murdering of multiple innocents and, of course, those whose deaths he used for his horcrux rituals. If he had stopped at three before he came to my family's hideout, the runic magic my mother used to protect me would have merely hurt him. It would not have destroyed his body. I'm also sure that his magic, now familiar with the ritual, and his unstable soul would not have mistaken the death of another innocent - me - as the ritual for yet another horcrux. I most likely would have died and never had the bit of his soul lodged in my forehead."

Silence met the end of his explanation. "To return to your question, Professor. Not knowing of the horcrux in my head, Voldemort created another, his sixth, horcrux last year… his familiar-."

"Nagini!" Snape said with a look that mirrored Hermione's from a few moments ago. "Of course… he never wanted a familiar beforehand. He considered them a weakness…" He trailed off, in his own world.

"He stored his soul in another living creature! No case of a living horcrux has even been documented." Bill exclaimed in disgust mixed with scholarly intrigue.

Harry laughed and pointed at himself as evidence. "We thought because of the unprecedented act that there was also no way to remove it from a living host. Much like Dumbledore, I believe. Unlike him, we considered everything from a Dementor's Kiss to exorcism and _asked_ others for assistance. We then consulted everyone from a magical Native American tribe to an African witch doctor. They all agreed that the easiest way was to undergo a cleansing ritual to loosen the control of the parasitic or dormant foreign soul followed by stopping the heart of the host." He saw Hermione's arm twitch as if she wanted to raise her hand as she would in class.

Harry nodded to her. "Please tell me you were not moronic enough to _want_ someone to cast a Killing Curse at you!"

Harry gave her unknowingly a breath-hitching lopsided grin. He knew she would ask that. "Every single thing that happened at that trial was orchestrated. We realized this could be our chance to reverse the misfortune of our House. We had originally planned to storm the Winter Session of the Wizengamot, but Fudge pushed our hand. I watched the pensieve memories of grandfather's on his speeches before the Wizengamot and was immediately inspired. I spent weeks under the bubble practicing and mock debating, and I doubt I will ever reach his level. There was a man who knew how to captivate his audience."

Sirius gave a good-natured laugh. "Charles was a piece of work. He was a living legend of his time."

"The Potter Dragon." Harry smiled. He remembered seeing a younger Sirius in his grandfather's memories before and after he ran away from home. "He was my inspiration. I hope I did him justice at the trial."

"Not to derail your memories of mimicking your grandfather, but can we get back on track," Bill stated after a polite cough.

"After your earlier _performance_ , it has been even more necessary to know what plans are in development. If there is a plan with holes, it was that one." Snape murmured from his corner. "Some of us, I especially, need the assurance that your family has more in store for the Dark Lord." The sallow man said candidly. Harry and Hermione both started at his frank yet pleasant manner of speaking.

Harry summoned a glass of water wandlessly and took a sip, ignoring the dumbfounded looks at his feat of magic. "All of the plans mentioned will be used… just not in the ways I explained."

"Financially, snakeface has no chance of withdrawing anything. It is stipulated in the Hogwarts Charter that if any Heir repels an attack from another Heir three times, that the innocent Heir receives all rights, properties, and privileges of the offender." Hermione gasped. The brilliant mind behind her warm brown eyes already making the connections.

"Voldemort's not the Heir of Slytherin; you are! Then he couldn't take any money out of the vault anyway. And he shouldn't be able to remove any items either. He would have to-." Her eyes flashed. "You are your own political block in the Wizengamot, Harry! You could change so many of the corrupt laws..." Her fingers twitched as if eager to prepare the list of laws Harry should overturn.

Snape cleared his throat. "You also mentioned earlier that you had researched the Dark Mark.?"

Harry smiled. He figured the man would cut to the chase.

"Indeed, Professor. Nothing escapes your notice." He rubbed his eyes underneath his glasses. He could feel the Pepper-Up potion wearing off. "My cousins and the Unspeakables are deciphering the Dark Mark… but for more violent purposes. If Voldemort can use the Dark Mark for tracking, maiming, and killing the Death Munchers, so can we. If snakeface infused the Mark with his own magical signature - which would make sense, since when Death Eaters are summoned by him, they can always locate him, we can also find him."

Snape's eyes widened. The possibilities and damages that could be done to Voldemort would be endless.

"It is truly unfortunate that snakeface doesn't have any house elves. They are trained from birth to locate their masters based on magical signatures and summons… It would make the work much easier."

"What are your plans regarding his horcruxes?" Bill interjected, keeping Harry from wandering again.

"The horcrux in my scar was captured before it could _move on_ ," Harry said frankly, mentally thanking his cousin FC for his forethought and providing a prepared soul jar that Harry took with him to the trial. It had sucked in the soul shard for them to study. "The Unspeakables are currently using this soul shard to locate the others. They should all share the same magical residue." Harry suddenly remembered the evil presence he felt on his way up the stairs. "It shouldn't be too difficult to locate the rest of Voldemort's things." He made a mental note to talk to Sirius before he went home.

The redhead's flinch at snakeface's name was very visible. "Can _You Know Who_ create more in the meantime?" Bill asked worried, seizing upon the train of thought that Snape brought up earlier.

"No, I _don't_ know who," Harry said smartly, beginning to seriously dislike the redhead. "I believe he might try. I believe the ritual will go very wrong for him, hurt him even. He might take to locating his other horcruxes or revisit the anomaly of my scar."

"Why didn't you say so earlier?" Hermione asked confused. "The Headmaster might have been able to offer some insight."

"Dumbledore definitely has knowledge that he has seen the need to hold close. If he had mentioned it at the meeting, I _might_ have offered the knowledge that we have."

Sirius growled in response.

"There is still an amount of uncertainty within your plan." Snape pointed out gravely. Harry wasn't sure how he felt about the man, but he seemed much more human and agreeable in the last hour than he had in the previous four years.

Harry sighed. "I agree, sir." He looked the dour man directly in the eyes. "Unfortunately, we can only do so much, even as a team of three people and more than enough consultants. We have hit a wall with our research on how to destroy the horcruxes."

Remus and Hermione seemed to share a look. "We could research in the Black library."

Harry sent Remus a grateful smile. "Any help would be useful. A killing curse would not be useful against a non-living object."

"The Goblins might-." Bill began.

"I've already stated my feelings towards the Goblins and bringing them into the fold." Harry raised a hand to stop Bill and Hermione from interrupting. "Part of my distrust also comes from the fact that we bought this topic up to them. Their response was simply 'it's not our business what you wizards do with your souls.' before they charged us a hefty fine for mentioning the illegal item in their presence." Hermione's mouth dropped open.

"That being said," he turned his attention to the redhead fully, "if you feel as though your interaction with the Goblins is so favorable that you would not be penalized, feel free to do your own research. Since Hogwarts starts up again in a few days, I will be visiting the Chamber of Secrets to see if there is anything left of the basilisk. Its venom did much damage to the first horcrux I encountered."

Snape's eyes widened at the prospect a millennium old snake or the fabled chambers of his house's founder.

"Why not find more basilisk venom?" A pale Sirius asked. "The black market has to have some."

"Basilisk venom gets more potent with age." Snape lectured smoothly. "Based on the strength of the magic in the horcruxes, a millennium-old basilisk's venom, which might be the most potent substance in existence, should be able to destroy it... I would like to present when you return to the chamber." He said finally to Harry.

Harry nodded. "I will ask all of you and some of my cousins to join. Many heads are better than one." A huge yawn escaped from his mouth. "I will see what can be done at the Ministry to keep Dumbledore from poking his crooked nose in."

Hermione bit her lip. "Do you think your cousins would mind if I looked into their research so far? We should make sure we are not all doing the same work."

Harry gave her a tired smile. "I think they would enjoy that very much! You and Remus should stop by - you should all stop by tomorrow."

Sirius gave a small, nervous laugh. "Tomorrow won't be good. I have a bit of Family business to take care of with my great aunt Cassie."

"The one who visited you?" Remus asked cryptically, to which Sirius nodded.

Harry nodded, getting up from his seat. "Just let me know when so I can add the rest of you to the wards."

Sirius nodded once more and dispelled the Family Magik in the room.

As they dispersed, Harry pulled Sirius to the side and told him quickly of his suspicions regarding the evil magic he felt as he walked up the stairs earlier. It was half an hour later, and after waving off an impatient Henriette, that his head finally touched his pillow. Content with another horcrux in his possession, Harry fell into a 12-hour sleep, dreaming of bushy-haired children with green eyes.

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* * *

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While the Lord of the Manor slept, a certain blond cousin of his left the perimeter of the manor wards, wrapped in a dark traveling cloak, and traveled by portkey to a manor on the other side of the country.

The promise of the Potter Lordship quenched any hesitation, disgust, and fear he might have had regarding his actions.

"Welcome, Jonas Gascon Potter." A serpentine voice greeted as he landed in a pitch black room. "It has been long since a Potter has _graced_ my presence."

A strange blue spell eloped the blond youth. He gasped and felt as though thousands of sharp hooks were being pushed through his skin and pulling him up like a ventriloquized doll.

The pain caused by the spell made him relieve himself, though he didn't dare to utter a single whimper. His contact had warned him against showing too much weakness in _His_ presence.

"Tsk tsk, such manners. Even dogs are better house-trained than the _Potters_." The voice spat his family name out like a curse. The sound of laughter around him told Jonas that he was definitely not alone.

"So brave and resilient. Come, young Jonas! We have much to discuss." The hook spell ended abruptly and Jonas found himself on the cold ground once more. He worried then that he had maybe been too quick to reach out to his cousin's enemies.

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 **Betaed by** Marc the Unruly


	9. Chapter 9: Another Difficult Beginning

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 **Chapter Nine: Another Difficult Beginning**

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As she stepped onto the train platform, Hermione Jane Granger couldn't keep her eyes from doing a thorough sweep of the area in search of a boy - _no, man_ \- who recently was the only one on her mind. The reunion of pupils, the loud chattering of owls and other animals, the eager discussions of unsorted and scared soon-to-be first years, and other noises all rolled over her.

She also couldn't help but to observe the apprehensive and darkened glances of the older students and most of the parents. You-Know-Who's return had many looking over their shoulders. Even the muggles on the platform, like her parents, were tense and skittish.

The newly elected Minister of Magic, Madame Augusta Longbottom, ordered that each family with a magical child be informed of what was happening in the wizarding world. This was a step that all of her predecessors had ignored for fear of witch hunts and the Statue of Secrecy. Hermione vividly remembered the uproar the eight-page pamphlet regarding You-Know-Who's return and his full history had been received two days ago.

 _Just as Harry planned and predicted it would._

Purebloods, as she had heard on the Wizarding Wireless, had been up in arms regarding You-Know-Who's, or now Tom Riddle's, true blood status. As Harry also foresaw, many denounced the illegitimate, bastard of the lowest half-blood pedigree after Gringotts and the Ministry confirmed the rumors. Hermione was surprised to find that there was the unexpected result of purebloods no longer fearing retaliation from You-Know-Who or his Death Eaters because of his blood status.

 _Apparently, half-bloods and muggleborns are not threatening to purebloods_ , she mentally grumbled.

Surprisingly, half-bloods were silent on the matter. Harry suspected that, since many of them lived in between the muggle and magical worlds, they didn't usually have the safety of centuries-old manor wards and Family Magik to protect them and feared attacks like those of the last Blood War. The newspaper reported that a third of the students with muggle parents were being sent overseas to the Académie de Magie Beauxbâtons or to schools in North America. Hermione had only barely convinced her parents not to move to Australia and send her to the Whitefriar College of Wizardry in Melbourne. The only thing that saved her was her upcoming OWL examinations and that she would have to repeat a year to catch up to the local syllabus.

 _I might not be so lucky next year._ She departed from her nervous parents and made to store her luggage and Crookshanks' cage in the luggage cabin.

Her mother had pulled her to the side after the hot-tempered three-hour discussion about continuing her education at Hogwarts for a bit of girl chat about the true reason for her wanting to stay at Hogwarts, the green-eyed, black-haired reason.

Being the constant and only female companion of two boys since their pre-pubescence, she knew that the chance of her falling for one of them was rather high. Her constant fights with loyal yet hot-headed Ron had led her, and her mother, to assume that the two of them were developing feelings for one another that neither could express properly. Then her dear, sweet Harry, despite being socially inept, obviously neglected and impulsive yet mild-mannered, returned from his escapade in Australia.

She felt her stomach twist into none too comfortable knots.

Her mother had intuitively known that something had occurred between her and one of her friends when Harry disappeared.

 _Her mother looked at her with sympathetic eyes. "You know, my little queen, when your father and I saw the spark in your eyes from your professor turning the coffee table into a pony, we knew then we would have to share you - even let you go with... your own so that you could explore this other side of you. That does not mean that we would not be here for you, or that we would leave you to your own devices in this new world."_

" _I know, mama." Hermione murmured quickly, a red tinge to her cheeks as her mother called her by the nickname they had used for her since she was a baby._

 _Although Hermione was proud to be named after Queen Hermione from William Shakespeare's The Winter's Tale, she also knew that her naming was her parents' way of poking fun at her eldest cousin Emily's mother, her mother's least liked sister, whose namesake had been one of Queen Hermione's ladies-in-waiting._

" _We will always be there for you." Her mother softly took her hand in her own. "Since you returned this summer, you've looked anxious and jittery - and not just due to the return of this dark lord character." Her mother took a small, steadying breath. "I also noticed that your last two letters before you returned mentioned less of Ron and Harry. Did something happen between the three of you?"_

 _Hermione felt her cheeks betray her. "No! I mean-." She tugged on her sleeve in agitation. "I do feel_ something _for Harry, but that has nothing- little - to do with this summer."_

 _Her mother merely nodded encouragingly and patted her hand once more. "I saw Harry's owl leave you a letter…"_

 _Fury flashed through Hermione._

Yes, he sent an owl to tell me that he was running away. He didn't even think I deserved more than two lines after four YEARS of friendship... _And fancying him, her brain automatically answered._

 _Hermione shook her head viciously to stop that train of thought and gave her mother a reassuring smile. "There is nothing going on right now… Headmaster Dumbledore invited me to stay with Harry and Ron's family in a week's time. If that is OK with you and papa?"_

 _Her mother gave her a - in Hermione's opinion, unnecessary - conspiratorial smile as she stood up. "I'll talk to your father."_

 _Hermione understood that to mean she had permission to send the Headmaster a letter confirming her parents' consent, and that the somewhat awkward conversation with her mother was over._

 _She realized she had no such luck when her mother turned back to her, hand on the doorknob. "Hopefully your first kiss with Harry will be more_ magical _than that sloppy one with Viktor."_

 _Her mother's laughter and her own groan of frustration were the last sounds she heard before she buried her face in her pillow._

Her mother always knew her, sometimes even better than Hermione knew herself.

Lost in thoughts about her mother's possible reaction to her new situation with Harry, Hermione ran directly into someone.

"Oh, I'm so sorry! I wasn't watching whe-." Her eyes widened as she noticed she had run into her redheaded friend. "RON!" She cried, throwing her arms around the lanky boy.

"H-hey Hermione." He murmured into her hair.

She pulled back as she noticed his arms had wrapped around her waist, and he was obviously uncomfortable.

 _I wonder if it's just his hormones._

"Let's grab a cabin near the front! I would like to be somewhat close to the Prefect's Cabin since I have to go to the meeting. I-." She trailed off as she noticed his sullen countenance.

"I-I will be sitting with my brothers. We've been forbidden contact with Black and Har- _Potter_." The redhead looked down with slumped shoulders.

Hermione paused to decipher that. _I wonder who forbids something like communication._

"That's silly! Harry would never shut you out because of what your mother did." Her logical reasoning rang true in her head, but it or something behind her seemed to make the redhead uncomfortable and angry.

"Of course I wouldn't!" Hermione whipped around so quickly at the sound of her other best friend's voice that she nearly tripped over her own feet as she made to hug him.

The hug was brief and interrupted by a snide voice from behind Harry.

"The klutz is the 'Greatest Witch of the Age'? Obviously, someone miscalculated."

The raven-haired beauty, who could only be Harry's cousin Henriette, scrutinized Hermione with open distaste. Henriette had been the only Potter staying at Potter Manor that Hermione had not had the chance to meet. According to Harry, Henriette was always busy with errands or planning the Potter Yule party.

Harry seemed to flush in either embarrassment or anger. "Henriette. Behave."

Hermione blinked, never having heard Harry use such a heavy and strict tone with anyone

A familiar stubborn look flickered across the other girl's face. For a moment, and ignoring the creeping hurt she felt from the girl's insulting remarks, Hermione had the feeling she was looking at a chastised female-Harry.

 _They could really be fraternal twins_! She had not truly believed Harry when he had spoken of the physical similarities to his twin-cousin.

Harry also hadn't mentioned how horribly rude and condescending the pureblood was.

Hermione was suddenly and subtly pushed to the side and away from Harry as the girl moved her out of the way to wrap him up in a tight hug that lasted far longer than Hermione's had.

 _Should cousins hug that… intimately_?

Hermione fumed to the side as Harry returned the hug, whispering things into his cousin's ear. She noted peripherally that Ron had stolen off during the conflict caused by Henriette Potter. She made a mental note to find him on the train and convince him to join their compartment. Hermione had finally had enough when the black-haired slapper placed a chaste kiss on Harry's cheek with a gloating look in Hermione's direction as a parting shot.

Hermione cleared her throat rather loudly. Harry, who had been apparently in silent communication with his cousin, gave the clock on the platform a worried glance.

"All right, fluff." Hermione nearly choked at Harry's pet name for his cousin. "Send my love to everyone, and keep an eye on everything in my stead, my lovely Lady Regnant Potter!"

The two black-haired cousins shared a laugh at some inside joke before the female Harry gave a heavy sigh and fixed his robes in a very wife-like manner. Hermione felt some primeval part of her growling possessively in the back of her mind.

"I wish I could join you. _Someone_ has to keep an eye on you with all of the trouble that you find yourself in." She threw a rather vicious look at Hermione. That was Hermione's breaking point.

"That's it!" She jabbed a finger in the girl's direction, only to be held back. Arms circled around her midriff, conveniently covering her wand as well, and turned her forcibly, yet gently around. She found herself suddenly looking _up_ at a rather well-developed Neville Longbottom. He silenced her with a look, surprising all of the student spectators who had at some point drifted closer to the altercation.

"Lord Potter, Lady... Regnant," Neville greeted respectfully with a deep bow. Harry and Henriette returned the gesture immediately and in sync with a deep bow and curtsy.

"Heir Longbottom," they intoned.

"How lovely! Eduarda, did you see that! It's is so wonderful to see youngsters continuing such respectful traditions." Two rather ancient-looking witches, who looked like relatives of the Hufflepuff in Hermione's Runes class - _Hannah Abbot is her name, I think_ \- had seen the bowing and curtsying as they passed. They both greeted the young Lords and Lady with immaculate curtsies before carrying on.

"Come along, Hermione. Let's find a cabin and head to the Prefects' Meeting." Neville said pulling the bewildered girl into the train.

She cast one last look over her shoulder at Harry and his cousin, noting for the first time that Harry stood in front of the dreadful girl, in an obviously defensive maneuver. Her stomach dropped. She blatantly ignored the girl's victorious look in her direction and allowed herself to be led around those hovering by the entrances into the train.

When they reached an empty cabin and door closed, Neville turned to her and spoke.

"Hermione-."

"What on Earth was that!? How dare that little harlot insult me? She's never even met me!"

Neville sighed and took a seat.

"Consider this your first lesson in Potter Family Magik, Hermione." He looked away as if searching for words. "There is a reason why Olde Families like the Blacks, the McGees, the Blythes, the Cornishes, the Gaunts and others inbred so much that it led to their extinction in some cases. Of course, it was partially consensual - as disgusting as that may be. I'd bet Trevor that they were coerced to some extent by their Family Magik."

"What does that have to do with that little incestuous episode or her obnoxious attitude-?" Hermione erupted, steaming. The shock from Harry's actions had worn off, leaving a deep bitterness in its place.

The ever patient Neville calmly interrupted her. "You didn't let me finish. Sit down before you accidentally insult me like you nearly did the Potters." After a moment of hesitation, Hermione took a big breath and did just that, and he continued. "So. Family Magik tends to be sentient enough to sense when a line is in danger. It usually tries to match remaining members - Last of Lines - with compatible and worthy members within its power."

"'Within its' power'? Family members!" Hermione completed for him aghast. The very idea of being forced or coerced into a relationship with a family member was too much for her contemporary mind, but she could imagine the magic doing just that.

Harry had fulfilled his promise to her, Sirius, Remus and Professor Snape by bringing them to Potter Manor and introducing them to his uncles and a few cousins three days ago. She had immediately fallen in love with the Potter Library. She almost drooled just thinking about it now. Both she and Remus were rendered breathless by the titles of the priceless tomes and scrolls that Harry had acquired from the Peverell and Gryffindor vaults. Sirius had to drag them out of the library after ten or so hours. They hadn't even _heard_ from Snape after he found a long-lost potion scroll co-authored by Salazar Slytherin and Helga Hufflepuff.

Harry's uncles Franklin Cecil and Milton Arnold Potter had assigned her the task of checking the library for uses of blood magic to deconstruct a ritual-made construct. Her knowledge of Arithmancy and Runes had impressed them so much that they also let her double check their notes. There she stumbled across some mentioning of Family Magik, but never more than a line or two. When she tried to research it, she always hit a wall. She figured that it was a kind of secret magic that was more blood-bound than the ritual magic she was researching.

 _Purebloods… how dare they hide magic from other magicals. Magic is naturally democratic._

She remembered then that Nicholas Flamel had authored an essay on democratizing magic in 1566, and made a mental reminder to re-read the essay when she found the time.

Neville coughed softly, bringing her out of her reverie.

"Yes, family members. Thank goodness there are no more Longbottom branches." The blond-haired teen replied with a shudder. "Harry and his… _cousin_?" Hermione nodded. "I figured as much. They most likely don't even notice the compulsion, but their Family Magik must consider them to be compatible." The bitterness in Hermione's stomach grew.

She and Harry weren't officially anything other than friends. But she definitely had the feeling that they had grown closer over the course of the last three days before she went back to her parents for their annual ritual of eating fancy before she boarded the train. She was almost completely sure that he had been showing interest in her with his smiles at meals, the brief moments of physical embraces and the other small shows of affection.

Before Hermione could respond, Neville swiftly interjected. "I assume the Magik is making the cousin defensive towards anyone she or It considers to be a threat or competition, for example, you. I've heard cases of it also making siblings hate each when they became too _close_ when no line was in danger." He went a bit green.

Outside, the departure whistle blew, and the train began to move forward slowly.

Hermione sucked in a deep breath. "It would most likely make Harry defend her as well, as he did." Neville merely nodded in agreement.

There was a knock on the door before it opened to reveal her black-haired best friend. _When you speak of the devil._..

Harry looked very much like a kicked puppy.

"I'm sorry for Henriette, Mione. I don't know what came over her." Harry ran a hand through his hair and sat next to her. "I think it's the stress of everything."

With him defending his cousin, Hermione felt the thin thread that was holding her anger back tear. She growled and was going to give Harry a big piece of her mind when Neville cleared his throat.

"I believe the Prefect Meeting will be starting soon. We should get going, Hermione."

Harry looked at his roommate of four years with a bright, proud smile. "Congrats again, mate. If any of us sods deserved the honor, it's you! Do the Perfect Prefect Monster some justice!"

Neville let loose a deep laugh at some unspoken joke. He puffed out his chest to dramatic proportions where the shiny badge on his well-toned chest was very noticeable and offered Hermione his arm, which she took with a small shake of her head at their antics. She figured that they were making fun of Percy Weasley, who had gone down in recent Hogwarts history as Pompous Prefect Percy.

Without so much as a "bye" to Harry, she left the compartment on Neville's arm. She stumbled slightly when she saw Harry's confused and hurt expression in the glass' reflection. Nevertheless, she felt a small sliver of satisfaction.

After a moment or two of silence, Neville continued their conversation.

"You two are like mating dragons. They cause more destruction and damage to their surroundings and to each other when mating than when they are on a rampage." Neville said with a small nudge to Hermione's shoulder, despite their interlocked arms. "You are so intense, demanding and stubborn; and Harry's the most impulsive, nerve-wracking, oblivious person I've ever met."

He sighed dramatically, "With such a mix, I truly fear for my children since they will most likely be your children's friends. Merlin forbid they marry…"

"Neville!" Hermione said hitting him on his shoulder, pushing herself out of his arms in mock fury.

Some underclassmen looked out of their compartments at the two. "My Lady Granger! Please don't hit me with any books! I promise to be a good man-servant." He begged, having dropped to his knees to grovel into her robes.

Hermione went red as the obviously new students peered at her fearfully. She could just hear her nickname for the year, Dark Lady Hermione. She growled at Neville and dragged him to his feet as the students scampered back into their compartments. Neville's chuckles were soon too contagious, and they both made it to the Prefect Meeting gasping for breath from laughing and barely on time.

It wasn't until after the rather, even for her standards - and she stayed awake in Binns' classes - _boring_ meeting that she realized that Neville had completely distracted her from her anger at Harry and his horrible cousin.

Neville had excused himself in a, now typical, exaggerated bow and scrape fashion, going to find his male friends before he joined her for their rounds. Hermione's hand twitched as she reached for the knob for the door of Harry's compartment.

She could see his silhouette in the cabin. She sighed as she turned and decided to go see Ron, Ginny, and Ginny's friends instead.

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Harry sighed as Hermione sat on the other side of Neville nearly directly across from him in the Great Hall.

He still had no clue why Hermione reacted the way she did on the train or what her current problem was. Of the three of them - now two, with Ron unable to speak with him - Hermione was always the rational one.

As she left on Neville's arm, Harry felt as if he had swallowed a hot knife that slowly turned in his gut. He spent some time in the compartment, after locking it magically, to peruse his memories of Hermione's interaction with Henriette. The passive form of Occulmency had not revealed anything that made sense of Hermione's reactions.

"Hey, Harry?" Harry's dorm mate Dean Thomas whispered from across the table. "I think someone is not happy with you." He pointed to the professors' table.

Harry looked in confusion across the room at said table. He could now feel eyes burning furiously into his very being. All professors were accounted for except Hagrid, who was running an errand for Dumbledore, and the fake Moody. In fake Moody's stead was a prim and proper looking Percy Weasley, looking over the hall with a superior gaze. Whenever his eyes roamed and rested on Harry, they were filled with such a ferocious hatred that Harry's wand quivered in its holder.

"You don't say," He murmured partially in response to Dean and in part to no one in particular.

Fuming due to the loss of the Tiaras and Harry's revealing of her misdeeds, Molly Prewitt, formerly Weasley, called upon her Headship of the matriarchal Prewitt Line and began a Blood Feud on both House Black and House Potter. Although Arthur Weasley divorced his wife for publically overruling his decision to let it be, the Prewitt Family Magik had already settled, and House Weasley had no say over House Prewitt.

Harry had received a letter from the Twins before the divorce story broke in the _Prophet_. They expressed anxiety that they and their elder brothers Charlie and Bill were planning to rebuke the Prewitt Line. The letter didn't allude to Percy or Ron so Harry assumed that the two were following their mother's bloodline and will. Since men couldn't head a matriarchal line, the male Weasleys didn't have a chance of becoming Lord Prewitt anyway; only Ginny, who was underage and second in line to her mother.

Harry wondered briefly why and how the Prewitt Family switched from patriarchal to matriarchal. _Maybe since the men lost the Tiaras to the Blacks, the women took over._

For a moment he considered asking his cousin Jonas, who was well-versed in the histories of the Olde Families. _I wonder where he's been. I haven't seen him at all lately._

Harry's stream of consciousness was broken by Dean waving a hand in his face.

"Sorry, what?" He asked as he refocused on his dorm mate.

"Is it true what Neville is saying?" Harry noticed that every Gryffindor within hearing distance was looking at him.

He gave Neville a questioning look, but the blond was doing his rather eerily impression of Percy.

"Did you really mention _him_ by his name?" Seamus asked from beside Dean. Neville's eyes flickered to the Head Table, and Harry's brain finally caught up with the situation.

He chuckled mentally and lowered his head in defeat. "Yes… I couldn't have known that he would come when invoked!" He defended as the other two fifth-year, Gryffindor guys groaned out loud.

Their playful banter and all other conversations in the Hall were brought to an end with Professor McGonagall's arrival with the First Years for Sorting.

Harry could hardly pay attention to the Sorting since he finally noticed the whispered conversations and looks in his direction. Percy and Ron were casting angry looks at him and sharing glances with one another, which made him uncomfortable. Hermione was ignoring his very existence, and Neville's closeness to Hermione was more than unacceptable.

He sighed. He could feel that this was the beginning of yet another difficult year.

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AN: Many thanks to Kairan1979 for the grammar correction in the previous chapter.

Hayne aka. Hainbuche: ließ weiter und du erfährst wie es weiter geht :) woher wusstest du, dass ich Deutsch spreche?

 **Betaed by** Marc the Unruly


	10. Chapter 10: The First Strike

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 **Chapter Ten: The First Strike**

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It was rumored the veil between this world and the Otherworld was at its thinnest on Samhain, or Halloween as the religious muggles called it while running around for tricks and treats. Wizarding children knew better than to ask for candy or such on the day. Rather, they spent time with their family, calling up the memories of their beloved ancestors, usually receiving a response or two from their most magically powerful or will-strong ancestors.

Haros Caronte was neither mumming for candy nor filiopietistically calling up spirits. As per his magical employment contract, he was ferrying the newest inmates to their final destination, the wizarding prison Azkaban.

He ignored the whimpering of the soon-to-be prisoners as they breached the Dementor Barrier, where the effect of Dementors became noticeable and increasingly difficult to endure. He felt merely a brush of cold upon his occluded mind and nothing more. In the moonlit distance, he could see the cloaked demons floating around like a black-cloaked, muggle version of ghosts, more agitated than usual.

It was normal that the creatures became more _active_ on Samhain. The _Dementor Discordia,_ they called it. It was theorized by Joachim Breitscheid, a German rival of Newton Scamander, that the souls devoured by the Dementors attempted to break free and ended up giving the creatures a horrible case of indigestion. Scamander and many other Magizoologists scorned the theory in their counter screeds, vilifying it as rubbish and self-refuting. It was never proven that Dementors actually _ingested_ souls. Most Magizoologists agreed that Dementors feed off of the "final fear" of a person as they disconnected the soul from the body.

As someone who had witnessed many Dementor Kisses, and spent his downtime reading all he could on the beasts he saw as coworkers, Caronte wasn't so sure that Breitscheid's theorem was completely _wrong_. Many Magizoologists had never witnessed a Kiss; he and Breitscheid had, the latter having observed Dementors in Azkaban for eleven months. A bright essence was clearly sucked into the Dementor, and it was not released.

 _On the other hand, indigestion is just not the right phrasing_. Caronte would call it "internal rebellion".

 _If a soul contained by the Dementors were invoked, it would most likely feel the need to respond to the summons and fight against whatever is holding it - it would most likely rebel against its captor_ , he theorized.

Such a theory would revolutionize the magizoological world. Caronte doubted though that such a theory coming from a half-blood without any background in Magizoology, or famous relatives, would be anything but laughed at or binned before being taken seriously.

He sighed inaudibly and considered the possibility of co-writing with a few well known, contemporaries in the field. He doubted that that would ever happen, though, no matter how much he wished it could.

His musings were interrupted as the Dementors, nearly 150 in total, stopped moving at once, and as if they were members of a collective being called to stop.

Caronte watched as a single figure, steeped in darkness, floated from the prison to the Dementors. The figure conversed with the Dementors for a moment before flying back to the prison.

There was a moment where everything seemed to quiet, even the whimpering of the prisoners behind him ceased. Caronte halted the little boat with his wand.

"What's going on? Are we already there?"

Caronte ignored the guard accompanying the inmates. The Auror, like most others before him, had slacked off in his guard duties and fallen asleep one or two hours into the three-hour trip. No one wanted to pull the Azkaban Transport shift. Most were roped into it because they made a mistake elsewhere or insulted the wrong person in the Ministry. Caronte couldn't blame them for their inattentiveness though. He tended to read one of his many books on Dementors during the trip to the mainland when it was time to pick up new inmates or go home.

He was once more pulled out of his thoughts as loud bangs and flashes of light illuminated the night like small fireworks. If Caronte wasn't mistaken, he could hear the sounds of people falling into the waters below. The Dementors wasted no time in swooping in to Kiss with abandon those who were unfortunate to fall. Caronte thanked the dark heavens that he had stopped the boat a few nautical miles away from the island. They were close enough to see much in the moonlight yet not enough to catch the attention of the Dementors.

"Dear Merlin!" The young Auror gasped. Caronte rolled his eyes and subtly checked to make sure that prisoners didn't attempt to break free of their chains and overpower the two of them - which should have been the Auror's job.

Without any warning, the entire south side of the prison - _the side nearest the maximum security levels_ , Caronte noted with a shudder - exploded. Like an avalanche of stone, walls and cells, _and inmates inevitably_ , slid into the sea. He steadied the boat once more due to the rather high waves caused by the collapsing stone.

The Dementors no longer seemed agitated. They glided around where the island met the sea and were now grabbing and kissing any fallen inmates, sometimes before they even hit the water. Caronte closed his eyes in a silent prayer for the souls of the innocent men and women who had been sent Azkaban without trials. It was a public secret that Azkaban was also used as a prison for political opponents and for those the rich and mighty wanted to get rid of.

There was a flash of bright golden light followed by a loud roar of outrage. Caronte squinted and noted some bright Patronuses now emerging from the different spots within the prison. Many Dementors seemed to retreat from one rather large and bright Patronus.

The battle within the prison seemed to go on for hours, even though his watch showed that only a few minutes had passed. More stone avalanches caused by the battle within the prison forced Caronte to steady the boat with magic many more times. He sent a drying spell at the other three people in his boat as waves violently rolled and crashed into it.

A nightmarish, ear-numbing screech caused all in the area to stop what they were doing and turn to the source. Caronte watched as one of the Dementors who strayed too close to a battle get viciously tackled and mauled by a quite celestial Patronus. To his utter astonishment, the unkillable Dementor was set ablaze by a pure white, holy looking flame, and mauled by the Patronus.

The screeching ceased suddenly, and the Dementor was apparently ripped apart until it was no more. Small bright lights seemed to unravel from the now unused cloak. The balls of light floated slowly up to the heavens, others darted in all directions, into the prison and even into the water.

Caronte felt faint. _Those are souls!_

"Prongs! Get them all!" He heard a young and raw male voice shout.

The night was suddenly filled with the screams of Dementors and fighting as the battle began anew.

Dumbstruck, Caronte watched for a moment as lights continued to dart into the waters beneath the island.

 _The souls are returning to their hosts…_ His brain was barely keeping up with the phenomenon. _This refutes any research into Dementors destroying the soul of their victim. If they only "eat" the souls, it would make sense that the soul returns to its host. They might even "live" again if their soul returns!_

Slowly, he realized that many of the bodies of the Dementors most recent victims were swimming just below the surface of the sea. This gave him a quick jolt. Without thinking twice, he quickly expanded the boat and began summoning bodies out of the water by their clothes. He urged the shell-shocked Auror to do the same, before putting the fresh inmates into an enchanted sleep.

Among the inmates he and his Auror helper reeled in, they found some inmates who had been obviously killed by the fall or by the sharp rocks beneath the prison. There were, however, many soulless and re-souled bodies that had to be resuscitated before they were put under an enchanted sleep. He counted two or three de-souled wizards who most likely had come in with either of the battling parties based on their every-day or mysterious black robes.

Some had even managed to run afoul of the sharks and other biting creatures of the sea. Caronte was no medi-wizard but managed to tightly bandage the bite wounds caused by the animals which had been attracted to the blood.

Suddenly, the Auror behind him screamed in fright. Caronte turned quickly with a stunning spell on his lips and nearly dropped his wand in fright at the scene before him. Three of the Dementors must have noticed their body fishing from afar and come to investigate. One of the tall, foul creatures held the young Auror's face in its scabby grey hands and had lowered its to reveal an eyeless face with a revolting, scabbed over hole where its mouth should be.

While the Auror was held twitching in the Dementor's grasp, one of the other creatures glided over to Caronte and lowered its hood as well. Caronte barely noted the smell of decomposing flesh or the hands lifting him up into the air. His wand clattered uselessly to the floor of the boat. The rattling of the Dementor's breath seemed to hitch in magic and it _pulled_.

Caronte felt as if something was hooking onto his very being and was sucking him dry as one would a portable pumpkin juice. The sensation, or increasing lack thereof, began in his extremities and quickly made its way inward, centrally toward his heart. Everything felt cold. He could see a bright blue essence leaving his mouth and being sucked into the hole in the Dementor's face.

Darkness crept into his eyesight. He thought of his son and his wife, who was not so subtle in her planning to divorce him because of his job.

 _So this is what a Kiss feels like._

Then he was looking up at the illuminated starry sky. His thoughts were silent. He coughed as his body struggled to get the air it needed. The warmth of life returned slowly to his arms and legs, then he remembered where he was and what was happening.

He rolled over slowly and onto his wand, which he grasped onto as if it were his lifeline. He sat up and scooted away from the bodies he had arranged in groups onto the expanded boat.

Caronte shook his head. He felt lighter and healthier than he had since he had begun working in Azkaban to support his small family eight years ago. He felt a boundless energy and noticed for the first time that a Patronus walked on the water next to him. He noted later that he no longer felt the icy presence of the Dementors.

The deer-like being of light beckoned to his soul and _lightened_ it. He reached out slowly over the side of the boat to touch it. The animal's eyes bore into his own for a moment. Just before he could touch it, and without any warning, the Patronus dispersed into thousands of silvery wisps.

The calm that it had emanated remained. Caronte glanced at his place of work and his mouth dropped. There were no more Dementors, no more battle, and Caronte would be surprised if there were any survivors left in Azkaban. The top half of the building had collapsed inward and more of the facade and facility were sliding every now and then into the water. Above the desecrated building hung an ominous Dark Mark as bright and luminous as the moon above him.

After swallowing a hard lump in his throat, Caronte spent a few more moments summoning bodies, all of which lifeless, their lungs filled with water, and heaping them onto the large pile of dead bodies. He cast a warming spell on the slightly smaller pile of living just to be on the safe side. The young Auror remained unconscious at the other end of the boat as Caronte steered the boat back to shore to alert the Aurors of his survival. His mind continuously revisited and reviewed his experience with the Dementors.

 _There is so much we didn't know about Dementors,_ was all he could think about. He would be forever grateful to the person with the deer-like Patronus.

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 _5 hours prior_

Lady Cassiopeia Black was a woman on a mission. The 80-year-old marched from the Floo point in Hogsmeade through the ward line up to the school she had graduated from over six decades ago.

There were many students aimlessly milling about. Such a thing was absolutely not done in her time. She and her cousin Callidora had been put in detention for less.

She made a mental note to chat with her reclusive, persnickety cousin. She had heard that Callidora was nearing her time from Callidora's daughter-in-law, Minister of Magic Augusta Longbottom.

"Lady Black! How can Hogwarts be of assistance to you today?"

The unflappable Lady Black was rendered absolutely speechless by the man who had just appeared in a burst of phoenix flames. Dumbledore's garish, pink and gold dyed robes seemed to radiate overwhelming happiness and cheer.

Lady Black barely managed to hold her morning meal down.

 _How there are any doubts as to his preference for men, I will never know._

She gave herself an elegant shake, as elegant as one can make such a gesture, to refocus her thoughts.

"I request the presence of Lord Potter, Heir of my House." She forewent the standard pureblood niceties and greetings. They would be wasted on the man.

He surely didn't deserve them either. She had neither forgotten nor forgiven his part in her grandnephew's unlawful incarceration.

 _Nonetheless, he will feel the wrath of the Blacks soon enough._

She noted a twitch in his left cheek as his eye twinkles intensified. Lady Black's mental walls fortified themselves even around her stray thoughts in the blink of an eye. She was not green nor was she unaware of his liberal use of Legilimency to skim the perimeter of other minds. But since he rarely penetrated the mind, he was well within the grey area of the law and unpunishable.

 _To think that such a blood traitor would use such a Pureblood tactic._

"Of course." He said turning around with an after-you gesture and a, slightly mocking, small bow. Only decades of interactions with him kept her from hexing his hircine butt into the morn.

She gave a small sniff and made her way towards the building with the man at her side.

 _I wonder if he sees himself as the Lord of this castle. I have to speak to Narcissa about reducing this fool's influence._

Since her husband's well-publicized demise, Lady Narcissa Black-Malfoy had been a whirlwind of activity in the Wizengamot's chambers, at charity events and other dedications in Britain and on the Continent. She had thrown off the robe of a trophy wife and was beginning to show the world her true face, her _Black_ face.

Her hands were in numerous pots and Cassiopeia was for one grateful for it and for Narcissa's unending loyalty to House Black. It was due to Narcissa's connections that she received the vital information that she would now pass on to Lord Potter, Heir Black, in hopes of building up his relationship with House Black.

Her thoughts turned to her grandnephew Sirius as she entered the castle. He was making some headway in reforming the connections that once made their House so great. She took over the more politically delicate situations since the boy had really no clue on how to keep his political mask up. She shook her head mentally at her niece and nephew's great failure in raising their sons, the Main Line's Heirs, to Black standards.

 _One is dead and the other hates the House…_ If she could strangle the two, if they weren't dead, she would. They nearly spelled the desinence of the Family's Main Line. _Maybe I will go and torture Walburga's portrait. That should relieve some of this stress._

"Please wait here, my Lady. Harry will be along momentarily." The old goat said as he led her into one of the conference rooms on the first floor. He ordered refreshments from a house elf and swiftly departed from the room.

Cassiopeia's first glance of the room deemed it acceptable for business between Houses. A large fireplace warmed the stone room. However, two large and empty portraits graced the walls and her passive magic picked up at least two scrying and listening charms.

Her eyes narrowed at this affront, but she decided to ignore his slight on her intelligence. Everyone knew that portraits, even empty ones, should be removed when Lords and Ladies met within Hogwarts. It was basically common courtesy. Listening charms were also taboo, but most politicians cast then on their opponents and the partners of their opponents to gather information.

She had barely sat herself down before the door opened and the young, dark-haired Lord entered the room.

She stood up immediately. Her magic demanded it. His magic and presence had filled the room so quickly that she felt slightly lightheaded. He gave her a nearly perfect bow in respect of her position and his relation to her, albeit distant.

"How can I assist you, Lady Black?" He asked formally, his piercing green eyes focused on her.

Although a young man dressed as a pupil stood before her, she could sense the young lord who had turned the Wizengamot - perhaps all of Magical Britain - on its head in one sitting.

 _This is the man who took on the Dark Lord at 11 and 14, a basilisk at 12 with a sword, over 100 Dementors at 13, and two Killing Curses AND survived…_ She suddenly felt 50 years younger and had the desire to impress the man before her.

She internally praised his ad rem manner. She responded in kind.

"Lord Potter… my Heir Black. I come bearing news that could spell disaster for your Family and efforts against the Dark Lord. This requires your immediate attention."

His eyes narrowed at her. He looked around the room briefly.

"Lord Gryffindor seals this room of all Foreign Magik. So mote it be!"

There was a brief flash of light and a burst of wind in the room. The portraits and some small knickknacks instantly vanished from the room. The fire in the hearth turned blue signaling the floo system, at least within the room, being shut down.

"Very clever, my Lord!" She nodded genuinely surprised with a pleased smile. She had never expected him to use his Gryffindor Lordship to keep the old goat from spying.

The raven-haired youth blushed at the praise. "Any advantage is a good advantage. I also learned recently that Headmaster Dumbledore prefers to stay abreast of what's said and done in the castle at all costs to privacy."

She nodded. No words were needed.

"The Dark Lord-."

"Tom Riddle." He insisted as he sat her at the tea table. "Neither by right nor might is he a Lord."

She swallowed her automatic response to his impertinence. She added that to a mental list, labeled "Henry James Potter", of things she would have to teach him before _he_ became Lord Black.

"Of course, my Lord." She watched in astonishment as he prepared her tea nearly to perfection. _How did he kno-... Sirius, you dog!_

She was finding less and less to critique on the young lord.

"Our own Narcissa has discovered that… _Tom Riddle_ plans to attack Azkaban tonight."

She studied his face intently for any distress or a reaction of any type. There were none.

"I see." His eyes bore again into hers as he took a sip of his tea. "How does House Black wish to react to this information?"

His question threw her off. After a moment she responded. "We will follow House Potter, my Lord."

"Hmmm." He looked away towards the warming fire in the hearth. He set his teacup down soundlessly, crossed his hands on the table and contemplated.

Silence reigned for a while. Cassiopeia Black once more held her tongue. Either the young lord was weighing his possibilities, her motives, or both. She would do the same in his position.

Without warning, she found herself held captive within the grasp of the verdant eyes. "Thank you, my Lady, for the warning. I shall work to keep Riddle from gaining a stronghold within the prison and from gathering his detained followers."

Lady Black suddenly felt the fire grow in intensity next to her as the young lord's eyes seemingly burned an impression into her. She shivered involuntarily despite the heat in the room.

"I will _not,_ however, give quarter to _any_ of Riddle's minions should they cross my wand, regardless of bloodline." His hint was crystal clear: Bellatrix Lestrange would not be spared.

Rather than argue that that had not been her intention, Cassiopeia Black nodded slowly. "We understand." She finished her tea.

He merely blinked at her response before standing and declaring the meeting over. "I will put together a small task force. Some of the Unspeakables at my House's disposal are eager to _test_ Riddle." His vicious smirk made her heart skip a beat. "Please pardon my haste. Thank you once more for the information."

"No pardon nor thanks required. As Lady Regnant of the most loyal sibling house to House Potter, it is my honor and duty to share such knowledge."

It happened so quickly that she almost missed it. A dark look of suspicion appeared on his face for not even a fraction of a second, leaving no trace of its brief presence to be found.

"Please extend my gratitude to Lady Narcissa as well. I look forward to seeing her and thanking her in person at the Black Family Gathering for New Year's."

Lady Cassiopeia Black curtsied and departed from the room. As she left the castle, she couldn't help but ruminate on Lord Potter attending the Gathering. It was definitely an unexpected but wanted boon. She had planned to send the invitation letters only in her and Sirius's name. She planned to pass on the lordship mantle to Sirius then. Now she could include Lord Potter as Heir Black and surely increase the attendance of those members with grey and light tendencies.

 _This will be one of the most memorable Black Gatherings in recent centuries._ She just knew it in her bones.

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Harry hated Halloween… He really hated Halloween. Not only was it the day a madman decided to listen to half of a prophecy and murder his parents, but it was usually a day where horrible things happened to him. He was almost a hundred percent sure that the day was cursed.

 _Trolls in the school, the Chamber of Secrets re-opening, Sirius Black breaking into the school and attacking the Fat Lady - despite his innocence, and his name unexpectedly being drawn by the Goblet of Fire for the Triwizard Tournament… and now snakeface attacks Azkaban._

Harry gave a sigh and put down the butterbeer that he had asked the house elves to bring to the room after Lady Black left. The Hogwarts house-elves were technically not allowed to accept orders from students, but being Lord Gryffindor had many perks. Rather than going to Defense and Charms buzzed, he decided to go to Flitwick afterward to explain the situation. Maybe the former dueling champion would be willing to be his chaperone for his mission tonight.

He might have to go to Dumbledore too about Defense. He'd be damned if he went to Professor Weasley. He massaged his temples and downed another butterbeer.

He quickly messaged his uncles FC, Milton and Orville over the cellphone-like device Uncle FC and the Australian Unspeakables called a holoport. It was basically a magical, mobile telephone with the ability to see and broadcast images or simple text messages with excessive and insanely complex runic components.

The Australian Unspeakables kept a close eye on non-magical scientific and science fiction advancements, much more so than their British counterparts. Sometimes they even supported their non-mag counterparts in their scientific developments. If Harry remembered correctly, the Australian Unspeakables invested in an Australian non-mag company named Australian Holographics in order to develop their holoport.

Harry kept the sleek and expensive looking device - definitely out of some Star Trek film - on his person at all times. FC was in talks with his superiors to see if the Potter Family could get a few more of the devices. Since it allowed for instantaneous audio-visual communication, reduced their reaction time to life-threatening events and would go a long way in keeping his family connected, Harry didn't mind spending a few tens of thousands of galleons on it.

 _I might even grab one for Hermione and Ron._

At that thought, he quickly called for the house elf to bring him another butterbeer and thanked it so graciously that the creature seemed close to tears. The thought of his best friends and the state of their relationship would have been grounds enough for him to order a whole pack of butterbeer.

Hermione had taken to avoiding him at all costs, even going in the opposite direction when he walked toward her. He still had no clue why she was behaving the way she did. Whenever he asked Neville, the only person who he talked to at all nowadays, the blond would only tell him to ask Hermione or look at his memories of the Hogwarts Express.

Harry wanted to strangle the blond sometimes, but he controlled the urge to the best of his abilities. Hermione only hung out with Neville, and only talked to him as well. Harry had the feeling sometimes that the blond was purposefully misleading him to sow discord and in order to keep Hermione to himself.

And Ron… Ron was avoiding him for both of their sakes. They had had a small discussion the first night back in the Tower, both barely holding back the Blood Feud-fueled need to attack each other. The redhead apologized for the actions of his mother and for the money that was stolen. He had no knowledge of it. The fact that the redhead with the emotional capacity of a teaspoon and the temper of a dragon initiated the conversation made Harry miss his friend even more. Harry knew how money was always a difficult issue to discuss with his first friend.

Harry was grateful for the apology and for his openness, but it, unfortunately, changed nothing; they were still unable to hang out or even spend long periods of time in each other's presence.

 _Maybe we can grab a drink when this Blood Feud is over. Fuck, I don't have time to think about this shite_.

His mind switched to his cousin Henriette whose letter arrived by post yesterday. Henriette was finally finished with her preparations for the Potter Yuletide Gathering and had settled her studies at Whitefriar College of Wizardry so she could remain in England. She had somehow convinced Uncle Virgil's remaining brothers Percival Hermann Potter, who lived with his wife and adopted children in the USA, and Lester Lloyd Potter, who lived in the Potter French Villa in Bourgogne, to attend the Gathering, and she was throwing all of her energy into making the Gathering work out.

Hardwin Potter also had six daughters, all of whom he married off to powerful European families. Three of the sisters were still alive but only one was willing and fit to travel. Regina von Hapsburg, née Potter, and her son Karl von Hapsburg would be arriving with Lester Lloyd's family. The Hapsburgs were supposed to be rather powerful in both the magical and non-mag worlds, according to Henriette's letter. Henriette was also preparing portfolios so Harry knew who was who.

 _What a lifesaver._

Harry was also looking forward to having the little, cordate-faced Jasmine at his side again when he met the larger extended family. He had a feeling he would need her bubbly personality and seer-like abilities again.

He noticed his thoughts were spinning out of control. He finished what he deemed his last butterbeer and stared into the fire for a few moments to meditate.

He managed for a few minutes before his passive magic noticed a disturbance nearing the door. With a flick of his wand, he quickly vanished the empty butterbeer bottles as the door to the meeting room flew open. He was maybe a moment too late.

"When the Headmaster said I would find you here, he did not inform me that you would be missing my class to _drink_ under the facade of Family Business!" The redhead menace of a professor said with a well-timed snarl.

Harry rolled his eyes and hoped that if he ignored Professor Weasley he would go away, as one would an annoying fly.

"20 points from Gryffindor for your insolence and skipping class." _Only 20? He must be feeling charitable today. Just last week, he deducted 30 points because my robes were incorrectly fastened._ "50 points for drinking alcoholic beverages during school hours. And another 20 points for ignoring a teacher!" _That sounds more like Professor Weasley I know!_

Over the course of the past months, Professor Weasley had established himself as the 'Red-haired Snape of Gryffindor'. Few enjoyed his dry and barely informative lectures, and more than a few students had run afoul of his inconsolable temper. It was rumored that the man was bitter because of the demise of the previous Minister of Magic, upon whose coattails Percy Weasley had religiously latched himself. He was now trusted by few, if any, in the Ministry, and once the opportunity presented itself to get rid of him - the Ministry had promised to provide a Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, be it the recently incarcerated Dolores Umbridge or another disposable Ministry employee - they seized it happily.

It was clear that the man was also unhappy with Harry personally. Either for removing the previous Minister, due to the Blood Feud, both or something else. No student so far had drawn his ire as Harry had. _No student has had so many points deducted either._

 _And of course, the year where Snape goes easy on his vitriol, someone else takes his spot,_ Harry thought disdainfully.

"Do I have to add a month of detention to get you to speak?!"

Harry sighed, not bothering to look in the man's direction though his wand was very visible in his hand. "I do not expect you to understand the intricacies of the Pureblood Circuit, _Professor_ Weasley."

He turned slightly to see the reaction. Oh, how he enjoyed the tightening of the man's face. "I will not be able to attend classes today or tomorrow morning. I planned to inform the Headmaster, as required before I leave the castle tonight due to Family Business."

"And what Family Business is this?"

 _What a fool._ Harry's eyes narrowed. "You are dangerously close to losing your place and your head… sir."

The redhead's pinched look intensified. "You will get your comeuppance, Potter. You mark my words!" He spat with bloodlust in his eye.

Harry merely raised an eyebrow. _Missing class warrants a comeuppance now?_

"I will see you in lessons _tomorrow_." The man threatened before storming from the room. "And a week of detention with me for your disrespect!" He threw over his shoulder before the door slammed shut.

Harry sighed and rubbed his eyes. He should not have provoked the man so, but the Blood Feud made him so violent and inconsolable towards the Weasleys, or at least those who had other denounced their Prewitt heritage. Luckily Ron was avoiding him, he saw the twins rarely since he wasn't playing Quidditch this year, and he rarely interacted with Ginny.

It was at times like these that he wished he was not so in tune with his Family Magik.

With a great heave, he made his way to the kitchens to grab a bite to eat and to avoid the feast that was partially in honor of his parents' sacrifice.

It was a very satisfied Harry who met with Professor Flitwick after the feast. The short professor, though understanding of Harry's tardiness, declined to join him for his mission in Azkaban.

"My apologies, Mr. Potter. Since leaving the dueling circuit in the 70s, I've fully dedicated my life to teaching future generations. I don't see my twenty-years rusty skills useful in either formal or informal dueling settings." The man, who had slowly become Harry's favorite instructor this year, said in an almost ashamed tone.

Harry, though disappointed, completely understood. He considered instead to have a series of small dueling sessions with the man throughout the year for both to work on and refresh their techniques. Unfortunately, a few first years had questions for the professor, and Harry had to inform the Headmaster of his impending departure. He made a mental note about the dueling class and said a farewell to the busy professor.

His trek to the headmaster was mentally long. The corridors were fairly populated, and he spent much of his energy avoiding the whispered conversations that gained in intensity when he approached.

He wondered briefly if, somehow unbeknownst to him, his name had been entered into another dangerous competition.

 _At least the Hufflepuffs no longer blame me for Cedric's death._

Still, he was truly sick and tired of the Hogwarts student population, more often than not nowadays. Without Ron and Hermione to force him to be social, he had taken to avoiding other students at all costs outside of classes and the odd meal not spent in the kitchen or the Come and Go Room that Dobby the elf had shown him. He wondered if his two years under the bubble had made him grow up so much that he found nothing in common with his year-mates.

With a start, he noticed that his feet had led him to the gargoyle that guarded the Headmaster's office. A quick glance at his grandfather's watch, he realized he had fifteen minutes before he would meet up with his uncles.

He gathered his most snide and aloof lord voice and spoke to the guardian. "I don't know the password, and I will not waste my time guessing sweets. Please inform the Headmaster that Lord Potter is here to see him."

He felt like an idiot for not thinking to ask Lady Black if she, or Narcissa Black-Malfoy, knew exactly when Riddle planned to attack. Since everything was uncertain, time was of the essence. But Harry would bet his prized watch that Riddle would attack under the veil of darkness.

 _And the sun has already set_ , he realized with a clenched stomach as he looked out of the nearest window.

With the grating sound of stone rubbing stone, the gargoyle moved slowly out of the way, and Harry made his way up the turning, spiral staircase to the headmaster's office.

It was written that each of the Founders had their own special rooms, but each had also contributed to the headmaster's office, which had once sat all four of the Founders. Helga Hufflepuff worked on the network of magic that told a headmaster when a student was in danger and designed the room itself. Ravenclaw created a scrying book to detect and locate new magical students that remained in the office. She also built the staircase. It and the external facade of the office could apparently turn into a trap, charmed by Salazar Slytherin to do things most horrible to enemies if the headmaster so willed.

 _Luckily no instructions to the trap stood the test of time, otherwise, some of the less noble headmasters would have been tempted to use it too often._

Godric Gryffindor, _the_ Battle Transfigurer of his age, had created the gargoyle that served as the first and main interior defense for the office. Its power and sentience were modern marvels. Most students didn't know that the creature was the oldest and last surviving of its kind, and subject to much international magical research. The centuries' old, adamantine golem was a testament to Gryffindor's prowess and power.

"Ah, Harry, what can I do for you this fine evening?" The Headmaster greeted with genuine delight. "I trust your meeting with Lady Black went well."

Harry smiled as he approached the man's elaborate desk. "I could not reveal that to you either way, _Albus_. You know that. You could ask the portraits that you hid in the room…"

To the amused bewilderment of the younger man, Albus Dumbledore gave a mighty belly laugh that seemed to relieve the room of any tension.

"My dear Harry," the old man began, wiping tears of mirth from his eyes. "I haven't had such an exciting year in decades, and you've managed to see through every single play I've made… marvelous. You've made politics in Britain the most interesting thing in this castle for all ages and blood-statuses without even trying..." The man clapped his hands together as if he had found a particularly difficult puzzle to solve or a potentially equal rival in a chess game.

At Harry's confused look, Dumbledore slid the day's _Daily Prophet_ across the table. Harry's eyes immediately found the article that Dumbledore wanted him to see.

 ** _Hogwarts Students Elect Student Representative to School Board of Governors_**

 _By Daily Journalist Penelope Clearwater_

"No..." He whispered in disbelief. He hadn't signed up for that! He had enough on his mind with the Family Estate, the political scene, subtly fighting Voldemort and doing well in his classes, not to mention the other things that were bothering him like the bodies of many of the seventh-year girls and the tattered relationship with Ron and Hermione.

"But yes!" The old man said, delighted. "The students elected you because they trust you to represent them well, much like you did yourself this summer."

The twinkle in the man's eye infuriated Harry to no end. Then he realized that Dumbledore didn't know that Harry and the Ministry planned to turn their attention to his beloved school once the threat of snakeface was removed. Harry felt a small chuckle building up in his chest.

He swiped his face with his hand and glared at the old man, wondering what he was after this time. He understood Percy's loathing remarks and the whispering students in the corridors much better now.

"Unfortunately, I must leave on Family Business, effective immediately." He waved the _Daily Prophet_. "I look forward to discussing this in much, _much_ , more detail with you after my return."

Dumbledore's eyes narrowed slightly at the mention of Family Business, but the merriment never left his face. "My door will always be open for you, Lord Potter."

Harry ignored the mocking tone. "I require the use of your Floo."

After received a waved hand as permission, Harry departed from the room without a glance back at the man, clutching the paper angrily in his hand.

The perspicacious Headmaster stared at the now normal fire for a few moments before sending a Patronus message to the Order members who worked at the Ministry to keep their eyes open.

 _Tom's inactivity these past months has been very worrisome. He would not pass up an opportunity to reap havoc on Halloween. And with his Halloween luck, Harry will naturally be in the middle of it._

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Harry rushed from the fireplace on the first floor of Potter Manor to the library on the third floor.

He was definitely grateful to whichever ancestor Enchantress or Enchanter who spelled the Grand Staircase, which connected all four stories of the Manor above ground, to accelerate if the person appears in a hurry. They even incorporated a soft landing at the end.

 _Bloody awesome, my ancestors._

He reached the library in record time - 17.5 seconds if he had been counting. Three of his uncles were waiting for him, but only FC was dressed in protective battle gear. His brothers both gave him a quick hug before FC went to Harry.

"Are you ready?" He asked grasping Harry tightly on the shoulder.

The question made Harry realize just how nervous he was. He clamped down on the feeling with his Occlumency. "I'm ready, but I think I should wear something less… school-casual."

FC immediately reached into his robes and pulled out a piece of cloth much like his own. He whispered to the cloth and placed it onto Harry's school robes. A small draft hit Harry, and his robe slowly transformed into those worn by FC. He suddenly felt as if he were cloaked in warm shadows.

"Unspeakable-made, they are. You don't have to worry about minor to mid-level curses, any elements, or your movements. The robes deflect all of those. You can make yourself invisible or blend into shadows by whispering 'hide'. If you don't to reveal your identity, just cover your head with the hood. It even hides your magical signature."

Harry nodded his understanding. _Hide and hood, pretty simple._

"There a few more tricks and features, but we don't have time to go through all of them. My colleagues are already on site and have reported that they're in place around the bastard's minions and are ready to begin engaging."

Harry's Occlumency shields could not prevent the rush of adrenaline that ran through him at those words.

"Before you go, Henry. I did some research on demons and the Dementors." His Uncle Milton said before the two could leave. He fumbled for a moment within his robe pockets before he withdrew a scrap of paper. "This is an experimental addition to the Patronus. It should be cast as you would your normal Patronus. I don't believe it will be enough to destroy the Dementors, but it should be enough to give you tell upper hand when you are battling many of the beasts at once."

Harry quickly read his uncle's barely legible script: _Expecto Patronium Ruqya_.

Suddenly the scary researcher in his uncle came out. "Be sure to note how the charm feels, how much power it demands, if it requires mental coordination, or any other dissimilarities to your original Patronus! It might even change fo-."

"We'll just have to have Henry give you a full synopsis of the battle." Uncle Orville said rolling his eyes at his father's brother.

The older man crossed his eyes and seemed close to stamping his feet. "You can't measure the power requirement of a spell in a _memory_ , Willy!" He threw his hands up in exasperation. "Perhaps if you had taken Spell Creation and Arithmancy instead of Finance Management, like I told you too, you would know that, nephew."

Harry couldn't help but smile at their ages-old disagreement. FC was shaking his head in amusement at their antics.

"Maybe if you had taken Finances, _uncle_ , you would have kept your sanity a few decades longer." Before the graying mathematician could even open his mouth to respond, Orville spoke to the Harry and FC. "Good luck, you two. Come back safely!"

FC nodded and led Harry by the shoulder back the way he had just come. They flooed to the Leaky Cauldron, and FC used a special device to take them straight through innumerable wards to his colleagues in the shadows of the wizarding prison.

The eerie silence around them made him clutch his wand a bit tighter.

FC tapped his shoulder. He stuck a finger into his own mouth and then his ear to Harry's confusion. Without warning, FC plunged the exact finger into Harry's ear and dragged it quickly down his face to his mouth.

Harry's initial reaction was to jerk away in disgust and wipe the saliva away. Instead of FC's saliva, he found a sleek string of some type connecting a device in his ear to one near his mouth. And it wouldn't budge.

"Can you hear me, Henry?" Harry nodded slowly. "We call it a spit-set. It hides all communication between us and even the spells that we say out loud." Both turned as they heard faint sounds like restless animals moving behind bars. "We need to move forward."

Harry only trusted himself to nod and follow the man through the shadows. He wondered how the British Unspeakables worked and if they had similar gear. FC often spoke of the Americans and the Germans with reverence. Apparently, the MSRS, American Magical Security and Research Squad, and the German MAD _Magische Abschirmdienst_ or Magical Counter-intelligence Service were the most technologically advanced worldwide with Australian, Canadian and China rounding up the top five. All of which with more open policies towards their non-magical counterparts.

 _Maybe Magical Britain will learn one day to embrace rather than spurn Non-magical Britain. We cannot grow otherwise..._

After a full minute of shadowing his uncle, Harry had a feeling that something was missing.

"Wait." He said loudly. He covered his mouth in shock, forgetting momentarily that only FC could hear him. He recovered quickly. "The Dementors! Where are the Dementors?"

His uncle pointed towards a barred hole in the wall that his head barely reached. Outside he could see the sea shimmering in the moonlight. There they were, floating as if agitated by something or someone.

 _I wonder why they're outside the prison. Is that even allowed?_

"Dementors tend to be very restless and agitated on Halloween. You should ask Marty about it. He loves laughing at new theories about the _Demented Dementor Dilemma_ or whatever the hell they call it now."

Harry made to turn away from the window when all of the Dementors he could see went still as one.

"This can't be good." He murmured.

"What's happening?" FC asked.

"I-I'm not sure." He tried to get a better view of the Dementors when the entire prison trembled.

Rocks rained down from the ceiling and floors above on their heads. Harry ducked his head as a rather large stone tumbled towards him. He moved a moment too late and braced himself for the impact. The sharp pain he prepared to face never came. He tentatively touched the top of his hooded head and held a hand full of ash.

"Merlin… I'm definitely joining your Unspeakables when this shite is over." He said jumping to his feet. FC laughed over the spit-set.

They charged through rubble and fleeing inmate toward _something_. Harry's bones and mind told him they were going in the right direction.

They came to a stop where a few other similarly dressed Unspeakables were gathering. They apparently were waiting on Harry and FC. There was a moment where no words were said. Harry realized then that they were indeed communicating with each other, but he could not hear them. They all, including FC, also had their secrecy masks on.

After a full minute of this silent communication, FC turned to Harry. "We will form a ritual circle around Riddle and attempt to weaken him so that you can hit him with a few shots, the Family's Judgement spell should do the most damage. He was spotted near the maximum security cells trying to free the inmates there."

Harry nodded. They had gone through this before. There was a judgment spell in the Potter Grimoire that only a virgin could cast. Harry assumed he was the only virgin in the bunch. His Occlumency shields destroyed the blush that would have certainly otherwise crept onto his face.

The group moved as one. Harry soon spoke the words to hide himself and mask his magical signature. He knew that he had a strong magical presence, and he was more than certain that snakeface would sniff him out miles away.

Riddle stood in the middle of the hallway being praised by two of his released followers. The stench of his twisted magic made Harry's stomach turn.

"Our people are getting into position," FC said into the spit-set. "When I give you the 'go', start casting as fast as you can."

Harry gave a grunt of acknowledgment. His hands were sweating, and he was calling upon all of his mental focus to remember the words of the spell. He could hear vague sounds of fighting on levels below and above. He wondered briefly if the Death Eaters were battling the prison guards or if Dumbledore's Order had been alerted so quickly.

"Now, Henry!"

Harry immediately gathered all his magic, infused it with some Family Magik and chanted. The spell was basically an Olde Blessing but reversed. It called on magic to judge - rather than bless - the target for the harm done to his Family. Murdering the Lords and Lady of the Main Line in cold blood should be more than enough. Harry added his own spin to the spell. With snakeface's mutilation of his own soul and other crimes against Magik herself, Harry felt that the impact of the spell would be much stronger if he also called on the magic to judge this as well.

His wand glowed a soft golden light in the beginning. After a full thirty seconds of chanting, it was barely possible to look at it. Soon Harry was forced to close his eyes as the light and his magic built up to an unbelievable level.

With a shout, he released the spell at the unsuspecting Dark Lord. Harry fell to his knees panting, not able to see if he had hit or not.

"WHAT ISSS THIS!" He heard snakeface bellow. "WHO _DARESSS_ ATTACK ME!"

Harry felt his heart drop. _I've failed. Months of preparation for nothing._ He barely noticed FC and the other putting up a shield around themselves. He cracked open a weary eye and saw snakeface swallowed in an orb of beautiful golden light, his frightened followers trying to free him futilely.

The Dark wizard gave an ear-splitting scream of rage as the judgment fell up him. Harry watched in amazement as snakeface's black magic was being beat down by the golden orb. The black magic curled and fought against the golden opponent wildly.

Voldemort's screams of anger turned into screams of pain and his body seem to rock and shake uncontrollably. Harry saw then that the golden light was seeping into Riddle's body. His robes, which had seemed to have been made of darkness, were gone. Riddle was bare-ass for the world to see.

Harry wanted to punch himself in the eyes, but FC and the other Unspeakables began summoning their patronuses. He closed his eyes and assessed how much power he had left. His core was not empty, but it wasn't half full either. He wasn't sure if he could produce a corporeal patronus now.

He shakily got to his feet, turning just in time to see the rutilant and convulsing Dark Lord whisked away by one of his servants. One of the Unspeakables cut down the other rather quickly. He really wished he could have finished the bastard off, but there were still two horcruxes they didn't have in their possession. There was one in Hogwarts, which was still baffling the Unspeakables, and the one in Gringotts.

The Goblins were definitely terrible little, mammonistic creatures and had swiftly reached second place on his "Shite List", tied with Dumbledore. The little heathens did everything they could to prevent Harry from even hinting at the item in their caves.

 _Their asses are the next to be kicked. We need to revolutionize and democratize our economy anyway…_

He stumbled around away from the raging battles around him. He was pretty much useless at the moment and had done his duty. The Death Eaters left behind were fighting a pretty one-sided battle against their opponents. Harry could see a few people he recognized from the Order meetings over the summer also fighting every now and then.

He tripped over a body lying on the ground and nearly fell through an opening. He looked down into the moonlit night. He shook himself and rolled out of the way.

He felt a hand touch his back firmly to steady him as the building rocked once more. "You okay, Henry?"

Before Harry could even formulate a response, a Dementor suddenly flew in through the opening in the prison's walls behind FC. Harry shakily raised his wand but was too late. The Dementor yanked FC around and _kissed_. Harry could only watch in pure disbelief as his Uncle was de-souled. His mind and hands didn't appear to be connected. Useless.

The soulless body of his uncle dropped like a string-less puppet to the ground.

The Dementor turned to him, but it met some sort of force field. Harry still couldn't wrap his mind around what had just happened.

Harry could only stare at his uncle's body as the Dementor tried to fight its way through to him. He felt pain unimaginable as if someone had cast a Cruciatus Curse on his very soul.

"No. No. _NO. **NO!**_ " With a roar of agony and rage, Harry cast the first spell on his mind. " ** _Expecto Patronium Ruqya!_** "

The unexpected force of the spell threw him back hard into the wall behind him. He slid to the floor, magically spent and wracking with sobs.

Prongs pushed the Dementor back through the opening in the wall. Black spots swam before Harry's eyes. He felt warm drops of a liquid slid down his cheeks. He didn't even notice that he was weeping.

The Dementor gave an ear-numbing screech as Prongs mauled it. It was torn to pieces before his very eyes by the holy light. He barely noted loudly commanding Prongs to get rid of the rest of the beasts.

Harry turned away, his focus on FC...

Too weak to wipe the tears from his own eyes, Harry could only slowly crawl toward his fallen uncle and lay down beside him.

"I'm so sorry. I'm sorry. I wasn't fast or strong enough."

The darkness before his eyes became too heavy to fight. Just before the darkness claimed him, he heard a raspy voice nearby.

"Don't worry, kiddo. I got you."

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AN. Thank you all for your marvelous support. This is my longest chapter yet! The reviews and favorites are just so many that I had to write more. However, if I get another reviewer asking if this will truly be a Harmony, I will cry. This will be ultimately HHr, and again, without too much focus on ship.

 _Expecto Patronium Ruqya_ \- Ruqya is an Islamic ritual that cleanses a body of dark witchcraft. Combined with the pureness of a Patronus being, it destroys the darkness within a Dementor… which is their entire being.

 **Betaed by** Marc the Unruly


	11. Chapter 11: Familia super omnia

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 **Chapter Eleven: Familia super omnia...**

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There was a resounding, surprised silence in the dimly lit hallway.

"That kid has mettle." One of the Ministry guards murmured as Ms. Granger stormed off away from the, now, restricted Hospital Wing.

Dumbledore found himself stunned by the girl's actions and more than unable to agree with the Auror - _Daniel Saphus, Ravenclaw Class of '87. A budding Charms Master, if I remember correctly..._ He was rarely wrong.

He swallowed his anger. He was more than a bit annoyed with the situation in his school over the two weeks following the Battle of Azkaban. Although he never showed more than his usual eccentric and professional congeniality, his fury burned deep.

He was not used to being challenged in his own territory. Now, multiple Olde Families were making inquiries into the day-to-day activities of the school and using their family members still within the school as spies. Aurors were guarding sections of the school, inspecting every dusty corner of his school for Death Eaters and reporting to all and sundry about Hogwarts affairs, all under the auspices of protecting the children.

 _Even the school children felt emboldened enough to physically assault me,_ he grumbled mentally _. How the times have changed._

Of course, Ms. Granger was not the only one ready to strike him simply because he insisted that Madame Pomfrey place young Harry in a potion-induced coma. After he insisted on no visitation under any circumstances, the Potters had declared an all-out media war on Dumbledore.

The sudden appearance of image-damaging exposes in numerous regional and international newspapers was definitely not coincidental. Each chronicled the darkest secrets of Dumbledore's history: his past with Grindelwald, his manipulations within the international and national governments, and every single incident that occurred during his tenure as Headmaster. They had even revealed the fact that he had perfect vision and only used his half-moon glasses to see through walls, doors, and enchantments within the school.

 _That_ had caused many parents to protest for their children's privacy. He received so many Howlers the days following that particular article that he had to put up an owl redirecting ward and have the house elves continually check the room where his mail was being redirected to.

Fears of an escalation led to Minister Longbottom stationing more Aurors being inside and outside the school after several futile attempts to have Dumbledore to turn over Mr. Potter to the Potters before they ended up declaring war on the Ministry.

Lady Regnant Potter had already all but declared her intentions in an open letter to the Wizengamot.

 _The only thing keeping the Potters from bringing Magical Britain to its knees is Tom's desperate, guerrilla warfare on the muggle population. At least Tom is rumored to be severely injured at the moment._

He felt a familiar headache blooming as he contemplated this new, multiplayer battlefield so dissimilar to the one-front war of the last Blood War. _And_ _Ms. Granger has a rather heavy hand._

His two-weeks-old headache had begun with a panicked floo call from Poppy. St Mungo's policy for any current or recently graduated students taken to their hospital was to ask Madame Pomfrey about their medical records before they began with their healing treatment. This time, the hospital asked for the records of one Lord Henry James Potter.

Lords and Ladies were not to be healed without familial consent, and Poppy was only brought in thereafter if the family so requested. The typical policy would be to inform the Lord's Lady, but since Lord Potter was not married they skipped that step.

 _Thank Merlin._ Otherwise, Dumbledore would have never found out about the secret mission at Azkaban, its repercussions or the opportunities it brought with it.

A small guffaw from behind him quickly reminded him that he was not alone and that he had stood, stunned, in the same spot for quite some time.

Dumbledore excused himself from the two snickering Aurors and quickly made his way to the Great Hall. He would have preferred not leaving the men unattended. Such a Ministry presence was unprecedented in Hogwarts' history and bespoke the fundamental change in his influence in Britain.

 _And now the Potters are applying more and more pressure._ For the past week and following her letter to the Wizengamot, Dumbledore received daily letters from the Lady Henriette Potter requesting information on her Lord Potter. Well, what began as information requests had evolved into thinly-veiled threats to return him to his family immediately.

 _If she had wanted to be reached in emergencies, she should not have put up owl wards. Granted, the few confounding charms I used on the owl delivering the letter should also be taken into account…_

Emancipated Lord, young Harry might be, but he had no documented blood family in Britain. His mother's family had been muggles and, thanks to Delores Umbridge, no longer amongst the living. His nearest blood family in Britain were the Blacks, but Dumbledore did not give the St. Mungo's staff the time to dig deep enough into the Ministry lineage records to figure that out.

 _Thank Merlin Harry's Black Heirship is not well-known._

Since the Lady Regnant Potter had been unavailable after the battle, and Harry's godfather had no say unless there was no Potter family whatsoever available, a small custody vacuum was created. Dumbledore quickly used the confusion to act in _loco parentis_ as Lord Potter's headmaster and order his transfer to the Hogwarts Hospital Wing. Dumbledore gave himself a mental pat on the back in congratulation for a loophole well seized.

It was technically very illegal. The unlawful confinement of a Lord, especially one of multiple Houses, could bring upwards of ten years in Azkaban. _It was well worth the risk_. He had simply had no other choice.

He was not used to being left in the dark regarding the political goings-on in England. Young Harry had managed to sideline and trump him so well, and in such a thorough manner, that Dumbledore no longer knew what was happening in _his_ country.

 _And who's to say that Harry has been telling me all I should know? I certainly wouldn't in his position._

After Harry's last visit to Grimmauld Place, Dumbledore was not able to shake the feeling that Harry had not been telling him the entire truth. There were a few ends of this story that were just too perfectly tied up. Even though his subtle questioning of some higher up Ministry officials had revealed the same, if watered down, information, his gut feeling told him otherwise.

 _That was all going to change now._

In one risky swoop, Dumbledore had reset the entire board of the political game. He had the Potters isolated from their Lord and safely outside of the castle wards. He had Harry in his possession and on a mentally weakening potion's regime. He had the Minister at bay by granting her a historical concession of stationing ten Aurors in Hogwarts. And the media campaign against him was being met with silent resilience. He looked forward to using that against the Ministry and the Potters once he had Harry under his control.

 _What must be done, must simply be done._

The sudden ringing of the dinner bell pulled him out of his reverie and made him jump somewhat.

 _Maybe I should talk to Minerva about reducing that penetrating sound._

He briefly considered making himself invisible to the children so that he could get to the Great Hall undisturbed. However, he observed the awe and reverence in which the youngest students were regarding him, despite the negative media, and decided against the disillusionment. It was a pleasant feeling - being the role model to an entire generation - and as such for multiple Hogwarts generations.

For every few angry letters he had received in response to the news articles, he still received one or two supporting him and condemning the newspapers and Ministry for being repugnant, deceitful and hateful.

Nothing had touched him more.

Dumbledore quickly and subtly expanded his aura to an impressive level. He soon felt a tight pressure on his magical core and immediately grabbed the handle of his Elder wand in his sleeve to help him maintain the magic.

For all of his endless prowess with a wand - Elder or his original one - time and age were still factors for all great wizards, including him. He was definitely no longer able to wield wandless magic with great abandon. His mental prowess and creativity had not waned but his spells lacked the punch they had once had in his prime.

It was one of the reasons why he had yet to retire the Elder wand, a horrid and constant reminder of his former lover. The legend of the three brothers, especially of the death stick, was still told to young wizardlings at night. Dumbledore had thought about whispering into a few ears the improbability of there being such a thing, but he had wisely decided against it. To take such a concrete stance on a children's bedtime story should be beneath someone of his stature - and would unnecessarily fuel conspiracy flames to unbearable degrees.

Harry's painfully accurate description of it at Grimmauld Place still bewildered him to this day.

 _How in Merlin's beard had the boy known? That will be the first thing I look for when I open his mind._

Since he had had no major accomplishments since his defeat of Gellert, he was careful not to bring too much unsavory attention to himself.

His waning star was one of the many reasons he had taken an active interest in young Harry's life. Harry's defeat of Voldemort at the tender age of one paralleled in many ways his own defeat of his dear Gellert. Dumbledore had taken it upon himself to read all correspondence written to the young Potter in the years following that fateful Halloween night and saw the similarities to the pleas and well-wishes in his own correspondence following Grindelwald's defeat in 1945.

Though he had never shared this with another person, it had frightened and bothered him endlessly. The fear had weighed upon him in the months following Tom's defeat until he truly believed he would be not looked to for advice. Even the perpetual, awe-struck looks of his students were no longer as present as before.

It was then that he came up with the brilliant plan that had dictated all of his interactions with Harry thereafter. He would become the new Lord of the Light's guardian and mentor. Where necessary, he set everything up so that, upon Harry's re-arrival in their world, the boy would look to him and only him for guidance. The abuse that Harry faced under his relatives' care, Harry's interactions with Weasley's and other adoring followers of his, the limited interaction with others in the Wizarding World and his limited knowledge of the world and his place within had all been part of his plan to endear Harry to himself.

 _And it had been successful._

He lived on through Harry. If anyone had wanted contact with or information on their child savior, they had had to go through Dumbledore first. When people mentioned the feats of one, they usually mentioned the other's shortly thereafter. He was fairly sure that if Harry were to survive his final confrontation with Tom, Dumbledore would not only go acclaimed in history due to his victory over Grindelwald but also twice-fold with his mentoring of Harry Potter, Defeater of the Dark Lord Voldemort.

 _Harry might even name a son after me!_ He thought generously.

Dumbledore knew his time as "Lord of the Light" was at an end, but at least he could endear his successor to him and live on through him. The world needed them to guide and protect those who were too weak and weak-minded to protect themselves. Dumbledore was doing his part for wizard-kind.

As the crowds of students parted in waves before of him, as if he were Merlin incarnate, Dumbledore knew he had made the right choices all of those years ago. Sirius' unlawful incarceration had slid comfortably out of his purview and off his radar - he truly had known nothing about Sirius' innocence, he merely ignored an unnecessary bother - and Harry Potter had looked up to him more and more each year.

 _At least until James' family came into the picture._

Under his impeccable, grandfatherly facade, Dumbledore burned once more with rage.

The Potters had destroyed all of his many years of planning, positioning and hard work over the course of one single summer. Harry had no longer looked up to him and even worked to spite him. But by allowing Harry to partake in the Battle of Azkaban, they had unknowingly given Dumbledore the golden opportunity to salvage some of his plans and correct their misdirection.

 _Now all I have to do is wait._

Once the potions he ordered Poppy to give Harry took effect and lowered his mental capacity, Dumbledore would be able to destroy the mental walls around his declared successor's mind and imprint the adoring and proper behavior fitting of his next Lord of the Light.

A genuine smile graced his face as he nodded to some students leaving the Charms study room. Ms. Granger's physical assault was nearly forgotten as Dumbledore walked slowly through the masses and allowed the looks of admiration from his other pupils wash over him.

If it weren't for the steady stream of owls pouring in with an hourly tact, the constant attacks on the wards, and, of course, the presence of Aurors in his domain, he would be completely at peace with the current situation.

Daily, the ward stones and stone guardians of Hogwarts reported a rather strong and insistent testing of the outer wards by unidentified individuals. Dumbledore still wasn't sure if it was from Death Eaters or the Potters since the Death Eater activity had increased at the same time of his _acquisition_ of Harry.

 _It wouldn't matter anyway. Neither has the ability to break through the centuries-old wards, and neither would dare to do so while I'm headmaster._

His pensive grandstanding was abruptly disturbed as Minerva called out to him from the Grand Stairway.

"Headmaster!" She spoke as she moved quickly into his path. "I've just received a floo from Minister Longbottom. She will be arriving in mere moments to discuss Mr. Potter's well-being."

Over a century of hiding his emotions was the only thing that kept Dumbledore from groaning outright. _Of course, she would be. The daily missives were not enough._ How he missed her malleable and puppet-like predecessors. At least he could turn them away when they became too bothersome.

Dumbledore was not, however, able to keep the exasperation out of his voice. "Surely our honorable Minister would not deprive an old man of his repast."

Minerva's mouth formed a rather impressively thin line. It was amazing how often he forgot that his grandfatherly persona had no effect on the old tigress.

"Your belly has been thoroughly cared for over five decades, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian! We have all been waiting patiently for _two_ weeks on any news about Mr. Potter. Poppy has been turning people away left and right on _your orders_. Unless you want this to go to the Wizengamot, you will receive the Minister!" She whispered furiously.

Her anger was so corporeal that students nearby instinctually put more distance between themselves and their Transfiguration professor. Her temper was possibly even more legendary than his aura.

He extended his hands in a peaceful gesture. "Minny-."

"Don't you **_dare_ ** 'Minny' me! You will b-"

Her tirade was suddenly cut short as the entire area shook violently. It felt as if a horde of giants were shaking the castle out of its very foundations. Stones and debris rained down from the ceilings and walls showering all beneath in a deadly cloud of rubble. Three of the magical staircases above him crashed into one another bringing more stones tumbling.

A quick check of the castle's wards deemed them all intact. Whatever was causing the quakes must be coming from within.

The quakes stopped just as suddenly as they had begun. Dumbledore doubted the quakes had lasted more than five seconds.

With no time to further examine the wards, Dumbledore's wand was instantly out and creating a physical shield over the heads of the students in the Entrance Hall. He heard screaming from all sides, and students were running in all directions, knocking one another over. Portraits along the stairwell were falling and their inhabitants hurrying to other portraits before they were destroyed by falling stones.

Dumbledore quickly discarded the idea to reduce the heavier stones to their basic components since the larger ones might be needed to rebuild later on. He hoped the students not in his vicinity were unharmed, but he knew it was most likely not the case. He could see some of the older students protecting themselves and the younger ones. Quite a few were injured in some way or another.

After vanishing the dust particles, and with a mighty, two-handed heave of the Elder wand, Dumbledore guided the heaviest stones to an uninhabited area of the hall.

"Minerva, all students are to go the nearest designated shelter. Great Hall or common rooms!" Those were the only areas in the castle - besides the Headmaster's office - that were truly fortified against natural disasters like earthquakes. They were rare but had occurred at odd times over the past millennium.

Minerva wasted no time in casting a Sonorous and a school-wide communication spell.

" _All students are to head to the Great Hall or their common rooms. All House Heads should head to their respective common rooms. All other faculty and Aurors please head to the Great Hall! Please do so quickly and calm-_."

A resounding boom from the direction - from which Dumbledore had just come - cut her off once more. The castle shook once more though not on the same scale as before. Dumbledore was suddenly reminded of the muggle bombings during their last World War and his war with Grindelwald.

The deputy headmistress turned to her boss for further instruction only to see the ends of his sparkling turquoise robes cutting through the air as he ran around students in the direction of the loud noise. She shook her head and began assisting the injured students on the stairs.

Dumbledore's wand never stayed still as he rushed to where the internal wards were alerting him to major damage. He quickly bandaged bleeding students, moved more of the falling large stones to protect and free up the egress of fleeing students, and pulled precariously loose, hanging fixtures, stones and other things that could harm his students and staff - or himself- down and out of the way all while running at a breakneck speed..

He halted as he stumbled upon the bloody and crushed form of a third-year student. _Adelaide Brook_. His heart broke at the sight of the talented, pureblooded girl... _dead for no reason other than being in the wrong place at the wrong time_. After a moment of contemplation, he called for the Head House-elf, Tubby.

"Master Headmaster?" The creature said as it popped in. Its already large eyes went wider at the sight of the dead student, and its floppy ears drooping slowly in mourning.

"Send a team of your fastest and strongest elves to scout the corridors for other… _fallen_ students or staff." He commanded with haste. He paused, internal morals conflicting the expectations of his responsibilities as Headmaster. "Please adhere to the Olde Ways when handling the deceased. Place them in the antechambers of the Great Hall!"

Tubby nodded rapidly and snapped his fingers as Dumbledore rushed off in the direction of the Hospital Wing.

Dumbledore was purely against the Druid-inspired and traditional Olde ways especially when they pertained to funeral rites. Bodies were to be de-clothed and cleaned of all internal and external impurities before they were covered with a white sheet made of pure magic in preparation for the Ritual of Eternal Life. Most dark and traditional Families still practiced cremation by means of a funeral pyre, where the magical residue within the blood and body of the deceased, freed by means of the cremation, was _re-absorbed_ by living family members. For the past century, only the lightest of Families buried their dearly departed.

 _It was nothing but magical cannibalism! Barbaric Necromancy! Absorbing the magic of the deceased should never be allowed._

The rituals had been practiced often in Grindelwald's War since he attacked many of the traditional families Europe-wide who practiced such barbarism. Dumbledore found himself the unfortunate participant of such a ritual at his son's and wife's funeral. It was organized by his wife's family, the Stewards, a branch of the famous Sayre family that returned to England after Isolt Sayre founded the Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

All traumatic thoughts of the past were quickly torn from his mind as he turned the corner to the hospital wing. His mouth moved wordlessly, and his blood chilled.

The Hospital Wing simply was no more.

Water leaked from the pipes that ran through the ceiling. The entirety of the two walls that overlooked the school grounds had exploded outwards and were no more. A cool November wind chilled the area but was not the reason for his visible shudder.

A glowing, green Dark Mark offered a gruesome illumination into who was behind the atrocity.

"Headmas-. Good _Merlin_!" Dumbledore felt and heard Severus coming to a running stop behind him. The sallow, black-haired man nearly dropped his wand at the sight of the heartbreaking carnage that he had walked into.

Dumbledore waved his wand in a complex manner and frowned. He wasn't able to remove the Dark Mark glowing even more brightly now as if mocking his efforts. _This isn't a typical Dark Mark_ , he noted as he expanded his magic. The Mark was _tethered_ to something _or someone_.

Growling in frustration, Dumbledore turned his attention and wand to identifying any survivors. He cast a seemingly endless chain of spells and picked up six human forms in the area, excluding himself and Severus. He did quick maths and calculated that the lifeless four forms by the entrance belonged to the four Aurors who had been sent to guard Mr. Potter - two inside and two outside the door - yet all were within the room now for some reason. Two other individuals were buried under rubble near where the beds would have been… _where Mr. Potter had lain_.

"Severus, there!" He pointed his wand toward where his spells picked up the only sign of life among the fallen in the area.

Dumbledore expertly moved stones, beds and other rubble to the side where no bodies were located, praying simultaneously to any and all gods that Mr. Potter - _no, Lord Potter_ \- had survived the attack.

Severus as at his side almost instantaneously. "On three, slowly…" Dumbledore instructed. "One… two… THREE."

"Wingardium leviosa." The two wizards intoned as one.

With much care, the heavy stones were slowly lifted off of-.

"Ms. Granger? I thought the wing to be guarded off!" Severus murmured more to himself than to Dumbledore after the stones had been laid to the side and his silent concentration was no longer required for casting.

Dumbledore felt the world spin before his eyes as the realization sunk in that Harry Potter was either dead or, more likely, in the hands of Lord Voldemort. His shoulders sunk as the gravity of the situation weighed upon him.

 _This… this can't be! Everything was perfectly planned!_

A heavy silence descended over the two as Dumbledore was lost in his grave thoughts about the repercussions of the attack, and Severus, the only of the two with extensive healing experience, did what he could to save the life of the tenacious girl.

Thousands of helpless thoughts, fears, and possible impacts flooded Dumbledore's mind. He had ultimately lost everything: the chance to guide Harry back onto the path planned by him, the chance to save the Wizarding World from the approaching darkness… the chance to live on through Harry's legacy.

"Oh Poppy," Severus said with much, untypical emotion coating his voice. Dumbledore turned and confirmed what his calculations suspected.

Dumbledore's troubled heart fell apart as he gazed upon the twisted form of one of his oldest and closest confidants lying near Ms. Granger.

 _Oh Poppy, indeed… I'm sorry, my dear. I should have been able to protect you._

He kneeled and gently closed her pained eyes right before Tubby popped in to transport her to the antechamber.

Not a moment later, Dumbledore felt the outer wards register and admit five visitors through the castle gates, one of which had Minister Longbottom's magical signature... and one with Lady Black's.

His weeks-old headache returned with such a ferocity that he knew it could not be coincidental. He looked up through the destroyed ceiling and through Tom's monstrosity to the gray, eventide sky in a silent plea to any listening deity.

He heard the rapidly approaching footsteps of Lady Black, the Minister, and the Minister's Auror entourage before his plea could be answered - and maybe as a spiteful answer to his appeal as well.

 _I was so close…_ Poppy had mentioned to him just that morning that the potion would have opened young Harry's mind to him within two days' time.

With great effort, Dumbledore righted himself. He took in the fearful and confused faces and, without any prompt, reported absentmindedly what he knew.

" ** _WHAT!?_** " The Minister's voice reverberated through that section of the castle, shaking bits of dust from the already loosened stones.

Lady Black was rendered speechless and gaping for the first time in his presence. Under other circumstances, Dumbledore would have made a snarky comment about flies. This was however neither the time nor the place for such vitriol.

He merely hung his head in defeat and accepted the abuse that began pouring from the two powerful women. He knew there was much, _much_ more to come once the story broke.

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On the opposite end of the island, a raven-haired Lady overlooked the immaculate grounds of her family's well-warded manor with a half-drunk, calming draught in her hand. The sun had barely set in Gloucestershire as the door to the Lord - now _Lady's_ \- Study opened to admit her uncle.

She turned to look her uncle in the eye. "Was the mission successful?"

He merely nodded.

She exhaled slowly and swallowed the rest of her potion. The shaking of her hands let up after a moment or two.

The first part of the plan was a success - though she refused to ask how much collateral damage there was. The second part would see her as the star in the media drama. This is where she would shine. The Potter Way declared that if a Potter Lord or Lady were incapacitated for over two weeks, the Lord or Lady Regnant was to be declared the new Lord or Lady pending the acceptance of the Branch Heads.

She gave a small contented sigh, noticing only peripherally her uncle's abrupt departure.

FC had been against the plan from the beginning, being against any unnecessary bloodshed and completely loyal to their _incapacitated_ Lord Potter.

Henriette was taught, as was Henry, that sometimes a Lord or Lady had to be willing to sacrifice everything for their family. Their health, their magic, their happiness or their life even…

Henry would forgive her. _Familia super omnia_. That was their new Potter family motto, chosen by Henry himself.

"Family over everything - even you, Harry." She whispered before she headed to the dining hall to inform the family staying at the manor of the news.

She gave the room a once-over. The letters for the Prophet, for other newspapers and for the rest of the family would be sent out tomorrow. They lay on the desk, prepared for the family, press, and public - tear-stained and pre-written with emotional words of mourning.

She lifted her chin, her beautiful black hair cascading over her shoulders, and closed the door to _her_ Study. She was ready to be Lady Potter.

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AN: This chapter was inspired by my reviewers, especially NakedFury and Stormbow. I had a terrible writer's block, and their reviews were more than enough to get me going.

To all of my reviewers… gods, you guys are awesome. So much creative feedback. Thank you all!

 **Betaed by** Marc the Unruly


	12. Chapter 12: Of the Mind

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 **Chapter Twelve: Of the Mind...**

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The night following the attack on Hogwarts and the kidnapping of Lord Potter was the longest Neville Longbottom had ever experienced.

Hogwarts was supposed to be impenetrable. The general consensus among the wizarding populace was that as long as Dumbledore was Headmaster, no-one would ever dare attack the school.

 _Boy, were they wrong._

Most students spent the evening and night within the Great Hall listening to the hundreds of theories as to what happened the night before. No professor or Prefect enforced the lights out curfew since they had all been on high alert after their impromptu, late-night meeting with Headmaster Dumbledore. Neville had never seen the man so downtrodden and perturbed. He looked… _broken_ and so unlike the super-being that he was rumored to be.

He had informed them all that there had been an attack on the castle by Death Eaters and that he had activated the war wards which prohibited movement into and out of the castle. The professors had been given all-night rotation duty, Heads of House were to stay in the dorms with the students still there, and the Prefects were asked to keep a vigilant eye on their fellow students in the Great Hall before the Headmaster abruptly ended the meeting. The students still in the Common Rooms had just been brought down by their Heads in the morning for breakfast.

So Neville was not surprised by a harried-looking McGonagall's morning declaration to the general student population that You-Know-Who was behind the assault on the castle and that further information would be provided after breakfast.

It had ruined his appetite immediately.

"Where do you think Dumbledore is?" Ronald Weasley asked with his mouth full. His usual, terrible table manners disgusting those sitting near him. _As usual_ , Neville noted aside.

A growl bubbled in the back of Neville's throat as he spoke what was on his mind. "The real question is: how can you stuff your face when so many of us are injured or missing?" His disgust at the red-head gormandizing across from him was visibly evident.

The freckled boy frowned at the unexpected response from the normally timid teen and swallowed a mouthful of eggs. "Starving m'self won't help anything!"

Neville and several others around them snorted in disbelief.

Neville turned away from his insipid classmate and stared out of the painted windows wondering if the injured students were being healed in the Hospital Wing or if they were taken to St. Mungo's. Each house table was missing a substantial number of students, more than the number of beds in the Hospital Wing.

 _I hope Hermione is ok._

His bushy-haired companion of several months had taken Harry's hospitalization very hard. Neville assumed she was overwhelmed by guilt for ignoring him since the beginning of the school year.

He had tried to explain to her the ways of Family Magik many times, but she was stubborn in her belief that if Harry were truly interested in her that he would be able to see through it.

Neville knew such to be hogwash, but try as he might, he could not get the girl to see reason. He hated seeing the distraught looks that Harry had cast in her direction. Neville had been so fed up with Hermione on Halloween, after seeing a particularly heart-wrenching look from Harry, that he told her she had to approach Harry soon and talk to him directly.

Apparently, she had been moments too late.

Harry's disappearance from the castle had gone unnoticed by most until the Daily Prophet's Morning Edition had declared him the victor of the Battle of Azkaban. Hermione had had to be sent to the Hospital Wing for calming draughts once classes had ended that day. Unfortunately, that did nothing to help her since, as she angrily informed Neville afterward, Harry had been transferred from St. Mungo's to Hogwarts at that time, and she had been forbidden to see him.

Neville remembered humorously the rampage she had gone on. She refused to answer questions in classes and even disrespected the Headmaster to his face since it was under his orders that Harry was not allowed visitation. Neville wondered if she had even registered that Professor McGonagall had _given_ her a point for speaking her mind since she, in the same breath, had put Hermione on Prefect probation for disorderly conduct.

"NEVILLE!" Someone whispered loudly.

He shook his head and turned to the garrulous Lavender Brown, who was impatiently waving her hand in front of his face.

"What?"

The girl flipped her hair over her shoulders as if she were modeling for a fashion magazine.

 _It's as if no one cares that students are missing and that we were attacked last night!_

"I was just wondering if you knew where Hermione is." She said with small, flirty smile. "She's the only Gryffindor girl missing in our year."

Neville was momentarily taken aback by her question followed by astounded and finally utterly disgusted. It was clear to him that Lavender believed Hermione to have had some part in the attack and was fishing for juicy details to share with all and sundry. Usually, whenever Harry was in trouble, Hermione was right there as well.

"If you want to know if she was _harmed_ or _killed_ last night so can go gossip to your little air-headed friends, you will have to wait until McGonagall announces it!" He all but barked at her.

She flinched back as if physically struck by his words before she rushed off to the other end of the table.

"Hey! That was not called for, mate!" The freckled food-bin across from him uttered in shock. "She was just curious."

If it weren't for the arrival of the morning post, Neville would have reached across the table and decked the idiot. He settled for a murderous glare since he could also feel the eyes of _Professor_ Weasley on him from the head table.

There was complete silence as the owls landed and the Daily Prophet was opened quickly by all.

Suddenly someone sniffled and a small boy in Hufflepuff began weeping aloud. He had received a black owl, meaning a family member of his had died. The floodgates opened and more students began crying, gasping and speaking about what they were reading either from letters or in the Prophet. Neville peered over Seamus' shoulders, with Dean Thomas and two fourth-years, to get a good look at the front page.

Neville's blood chilled as soon as he saw the destroyed state of the Hospital Wing and the ominously glowing Dark Mark on one of the large pictures.

 ** _DEATH EATER ATTACK ON HOGWARTS_**

 ** _11 Students and 2 Staff members killed! Many injured!_**

 _LORD POTTER KIDNAPPED!_

 _By Cemble Shuffleton_

 _Last night, the nightmare every parent feared since the return of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named came true. Hogwarts was attacked from within!_

 _As Minister Longbottom announced in a press conference this morning, "At approximately 5:30 in the evening, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was shaken, literally, by a dastardly attack on the Hospital Wing. Headmaster Albus Dumbledore has informed me that as of this morning, ten young wizards and witches lost their lives due to falling rocks and other cave-ins. The Hogwarts wards are still intact, so we believe the attack happened from within."_

 _This reporter reports that since the time of the conference, one more student, who had been rushed to St. Mungos, passed away in the Intensive Care Unit._

 _The Minister went on to state that the Dark Mark, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's brand, and trademark, hovered over the scene of the crime as seen in the picture above._

 _Ministry investigators unanimously agreed that the attack on the school was first and foremost a kidnapping attempt on Lord Henry (Harry) James Potter, age 15, whose controversial transfer from St. Mungo's to Hogwarts Hospital wing following the Battle of Azkaban on Headmaster Dumbledore's order has generated waves of disquisition from the Wizengamot to the Hogwarts Board of Governors. (See pages 5-9 for a summary of the discussions and minutes from the meetings)._

 _When questioned this morning as to why he went against the Potter Family's wishes and brought the wrath of You-Know-Who upon the school (See pages 10-12 for Lady Regnant Henriette Potter's heartrending appeals to Headmaster Dumbledore and to the Wizengamot for the release of her Head of Family into her care), Headmaster Dumbledore responded cryptically._

" _Young Harry - excuse me,_ Lord _Potter - was guaranteed the best of care in his fourteen years under my custodianship. Unfortunately, his importance to our world is more crucial than bending to the whims of foreign individuals who have known him for all of five months."_

Neville skimmed the next few paragraphs since they only mentioned Harry and Dumbledore, as well a summary of Harry's remarks at the impromptu summer session of the Wizengamot where he had been put on trial. He soon stumbled upon the name he had been desperately looking for five paragraphs later.

 _Among the 31 students transferred to St. Mungo's for healing was one Ms. Hermione Granger, the muggleborn friend of Lord Potter. According to reliable sources, Ms. Granger was found within the Hospital Wing and her wand was registered having used many defensive and violent spells, most likely to protect the bedridden Lord Potter from his attackers. A powerful heroine for a powerful hero._

 _St. Mungos reports that Ms. Granger was hit with a powerful stunning spell and later crushed by fallen rocks. Our muggleborn heroine was listed in critical condition as of this morning. (For a full list of deceased and injured students, see page 3. For more on Lord Potter's relationship with Ms. Granger, see the reprint of Rita Skeeter's article from February on page 12)_

Neville collapsed in his seat.

Harry had been abducted by Death Eaters, and Hermione lay in critical condition at St. Mungo's. His mind could barely wrap itself around that information.

"So. Do you know where Hermione is? I still need her help with Charms." Ron's gobbled question breached Neville's shock. "It's nice that you hang around her and all because Harry won't, but she's still _my_ bookworm." The redhead's attempt at a joke instantly pushed him into a rage. Neville saw red and everything blurred.

He was not aware of propelling himself over the table to clobber the red-head, sending food and people nearby flying out of the way. He just remembered knocking the boy off the bench, landing on top of him, holding red hair in one fist and hitting with the other.

It took three professors, two repelling spells and a petrification spell to get him off of the, now, unconscious and bloodied boy beneath him. He barely heard the blathering of Professor Weasley about his imminent arrest and expulsion. He didn't even notice the arrival of anxious and mourning parents picking up their children, living or deceased.

When his grandmother appeared with her Auror Guard and demanded to know why he was bloodied and petrified, he wasn't even aware that he wandlessly broke the spell.

He stunned everyone by righting himself, lifting his chin and speaking directly and formally to his grandmother.

"Mr. Weasley disrespected and insulted the honor of Ms. Granger, a friend of our House and of our sibling House Potter. If he were not bloodied and beaten on the ground, I would challenge him to a Wizards Duel with no quarter!" Neville spat upon the ground by the redhead.

His gran gave him a shrewd look and turned primly to the shocked elder redhead. "Please inform your Lady Prewitt that House Longbottom will be in touch." She grabbed Neville gently yet firmly by the shoulder and steered him out of the Great Hall.

As they left the castle, and without turning to him, she said simply, "Your parents would be proud of the loyal friend and upright man their baby has become. I surely am."

For the first time in his life, he felt a deeper connection to his grandmother beside that of blood. He only wished he could have made her proud without breaking his hand and without having two friends in precarious conditions.

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As the sad news broke at Hogwarts and at other breakfast tables in the UK, a certain Dark Lord was fuming in his manor.

His Death Eaters were avoiding him as best as they could. The young recruit who thought he would be higher in the Dark Lord's favor if he were the first to bring the news to his Lord ended up a twitching mess on the cold, stone floor when his Lord was finished releasing his anger.

Voldemort merely kicked the pathetic boy out of his pacing path.

 _Who dares operate outside of my orders!_

He wouldn't put it past one of his more lower ranking Death Eaters to try and curry his favor by kidnapping his nemesis. But breaking into Hogwarts belied skills that only his highest, most favored Death Eaters would possess.

His initial thought was that the entire attack was a manipulation concocted by the old fool Dumbledore to focus Voldemort's attention elsewhere. However, his logical side kicked in. It was impossible for anyone other than his marked servants to cast the Dark Mark. He had put a safeguard in place for exactly such a situation. He also was receiving word from his followers with children that the injuries and deaths of the students were not being faked. If there was one thing that old fool would never do, it was deliberately and willing kill his own charges.

The old man despised bloodshed above all else, especially that of the young and innocent. It was single-handedly due to him that Voldemort's current followers were not killed after his demise in '81. Dumbledore had insisted that they all be imprisoned and re-socialized instead.

 _At some point, I will have to send him a "thank you" card… preferably pinned to the smoking corpse of one of his Order members._

It wasn't a bad idea at all. _I'll give Bella the mission. She's been looking bit sulky at the lack of high profile killings lately._

He knew she wasn't the only one. Since the Battle of Azkaban, as the papers were calling it, he found himself unable to wield magic as he had since his resurrection. He had his most loyal researching the curse that thrice-damned Potter had cast on him. So far the research bore no fruit whatsoever.

Due to the curse, he found himself unable to cast any magic that would harm or kill others. Some spells left him drained, whereas the darkest spells ended up harming him painfully as well. Most of his other, non-dark spells were just as powerful as before. It was just the Dark Magic.

 _A Dark Lord who can't wield Dark Magik cannot be rightfully called such. It is disgraceful!_

Even crucioing the foolish recruit had left him feeling as if he had single-handedly raised the fabled Atlantis.

It was imperative that he regained his strength immediately. If there were dissenters in his ranks, he had to weed them out and publicly punish them in the presence of his remaining followers, otherwise, the rebellion would spread quickly.

He would have preferred to kill any and all dissenters among his followers, but following dear old Gussy's rather accurate pamphlet to all of Magical England about his parentage and background, recruitment had decreased severely. He had also suddenly lost most of his powerful and rich followers in the aftermath of Lucius' trial and the Death Eater purge that had swiftly followed. Many of his marked followers in the Ministry went mysteriously missing all at once a few days after the trial.

 _It was not a mystery in all honesty._

He had viciously punished all of them through their Dark Marks for not responding to his summons, yet not one returned regardless of his actions. After he sent two more, lower ranked, followers into Ministry to spy, and they failed to return, he quickly declared the Ministry off-limits to all remaining followers until he had the time to see what was happening himself.

 _After I find the counter to this dratted curse!_

The failed mission to break his faithful followers out of Azkaban had left him weakened, without many of his most faithful _and_ fifteen recruits lighter. Besides the Lestrange's, the Carrows, and the rat, Pettigrew, he was surrounded by a completely new, mindless and mediocre set of wizards. Luckily, he had sent McNair and Jugson to recruit the giants prior to the mission, otherwise, he would have lost their talented wands as well.

It was slowly dawning on him that he was facing a completely different England than the fearful and desperate one he had nearly been King of before his demise.

He had a feeling that it all had something to do with Potter and with his foreign family coming to shore.

A new feeling settled in his stomach, something he hadn't felt since his pre-teenage years. Fear.

" _The one with the power to vanquish…" What did it mean? Was it magical power? Political power… or his extended family? The Power of the Potters united under a Lord Potter? Maybe even their Family Magik-._

"Of course!" He snarled out loud. The spell that the Potter brat hit him with was from the Potter Family Repertoire. _No wonder our research has been futile._

Suddenly the recruit on the floor relieved himself, most likely in fear of more punishment. Voldemort did not even break stride as he banished the idiot and his excrement through the window and sat down heavily on his throne.

 _I need to get my hands on that prophecy. The timing couldn't be better with Dumbledore currently occupied by the attack and the Potter brat off the map. I will need to be quick, but I also need to be at top strength._

He needed to do another ritual, one that would strip him of all foreign magic and leave him as he was on Halloween 1981. He would need the horcrux he had made before he attacked the Potters. He needed the Locket, and he would need a lowly recruit to consume the Drink of Despair. He made all of his protections without any bypass methods. He had not planned on ever needing to retrieve them.

At the same time, his thoughts shifted to his next plans. He would need to find out which of his treacherous followers was hiding Potter. His thoughts strayed in both cases to the blond Potter in his service. _Yes, he will do nicely._

Once he was back at strength, he would have to single-handedly infiltrate the Ministry of Magic to find his missing followers and the prophecy.

 _Or maybe I don't…_

He raised his wand to his ring and immediately summoned Bella. His ring was only linked to his Inner Circle. He had found it a bit appalling that he had needed Wormtail's arm to summon his most faithful followers at his resurrection. He would add the more worthy of his current followers to his ring after he returned to power.

He had barely lowered his wand as Bellatrix opened his door and bowed deeply. _Faithful girl! She was probably waiting outside the door just for me to call her._

"My Lord." Her adoration for him palpable through her words. He would reward her upon her return.

"Locate McNair and Jugson. They are to abort their mission and accompany you to Romania where you will attack the International Dragon Reserves. You are _not_ to be discovered. Kill or recruit the Dragon handlers. How many you kill does not matter, as long as you leave the worthy ones and at least one of the Tamers alive. Once you have the area under control, summon me."

She nodded furiously and graciously, bloodlust swimming in her eyes, as she swiftly departed. He had no doubts that she would summon him through the Dark Mark in two days' time. An evil smile graced his face as he imagined her trussing up the McNair and Jugson in order to get to the reserves more quickly to kill.

He summoned Wormtail with his ring and waited a total of two minutes before the rat-like man came scurrying into the throne room.

"My - My Lord!" He sniveled, gasping for breath, a newspaper clutched in his hands.

Oh how Voldemort would have loved to crucio the man, but he had to conserve his strength for retrieving his horcrux.

"Your arm." He demanded.

The dirty man scurried up to the throne, bearing his arm at a most uncomfortable angle while kissing his Lord's robes.

Voldemort swiftly pressed his wand into the mark and thought of Jonas Potter.

"Bring me Narcissa Black. I want her unharmed and in my presence upon my return tonight." Wormtail bowed his head even lower so that his Lord could not see the worry in his eyes. "Well, go!"

The man scurried to his feet and rushed from the room.

Wormtail's special afternoon edition of the Daily Profit lay open at his feet. He swiftly picked up the newspaper and read the article with Lady Regnant Potter's emotional letter calling for Dumbledore to take responsibility for his actions and inaction in her Lord's kidnapping as the door to his throne room opened once more to admit the blond Potter.

Before the boy had the chance to bow before him and kiss his robes, Voldemort stood up from his throne and used some passive Legilimency. The boy's mind was leaking worries about his Lady Regnant Potter and his Dark Lord. Voldemort viciously followed those thoughts into the weakling's mind.

The feeble protection around the boy's mind shattered instantly under the Dark Lord's legendary Legilimency assault.

 _Ah such a clever girl,_ Voldemort told as he quickly found the information he was looking for.

"So your Lady Regnant _did_ simulate the Death Eater participation in the attack on Hogwarts." He stated, pulling out of the boy's ravaged mind. The blond lay crying on the ground before Voldemort. If he had the power to spare, he would have crucioed the boy into next week and back.

 _I wonder how she managed to fabricate the Dark Mark_. He found himself at lost at how the Potters had even managed to infiltrate the school. He had many of his best Death Eaters, not that there are many of them left, testing the famous wards for weaknesses daily.

None were having luck. _For the Potters to have found a way in little to no time_...

He might end up having Snape drop his spying to launch an attack from within once he had dealt the Ministry and the Potters a blow with the dragons. He would promise Snape the Headmaster position at Hogwarts. That would be a fitting reward for his many years of service.

 _Maybe the Carrows could be my eyes and ears within the castle while I'm taking over the Ministry._

"M-my Lord?" The blond spoke finally with fear, in pain and trembling. "I was un-unaware that she had such an act planned. I was on my w-way to inform you when I-I received your summons."

The blonde stuttered to a stop as his eyes zoomed in on Voldemort's wand. He clearly expected pain.

Voldemort's evil grin was nothing more than a promise of much more pain to come and nearly loosened the boy's bowels.

"It is no matter. We will deal with your _Lady's_ disrespect upon our return." Without waiting for the boy to wrap his mind around the fact that he would not be _immediately_ tortured for withholding rather vital information, Voldemort apparated them to the first destination on his path to ruling England.

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 **Memory: Day 38 under the Potter Time-Bubble**

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" _There is no rule book to becoming_ the _Potter," Uncle Virgil said softly to Harry and Henriette at their first Family Magik lesson under the time-bubble. "The most important thing a Lord or Lady of our House must do is learn from their predecessors. Unfortunately, our Head Line has been all but destroyed due to the last civil war in magical England." He threw a sad look at Harry, the Last of that Line._

Hopefully not for long, _he thought with a fleeting glance at Henriette._

 _FC's plan to get young Henry to open up by appealing to the boy's moral compass and valorous honesty worked like a charm, while the Family Magik relaxed and soothed the teen. Henry had given them a rather jarring and unedited version of his life so far and Virgil had had the immediate feeling that either Destiny or this Light Lord Albus Dumbledore - or both - was planning to end the Potter Head Line._

If Harry doesn't marry soon, _Virgil had thought then,_ the chances of there being a continuation of that Line are minimal with the rate at which he finds himself in dangerous positions.

 _Neither Henry nor Henriette questioned the fact that he decided to have Henriette attend Henry's lessons, though most of his children had given him knowing looks. It wasn't_ too _far-fetched to hope that the two Lines, his and Charlus', merge through a matrimonial union between the two raven-haired teens. He could feel the Family Magik pushing the two together, opening them up to one another…_ preparing them for a possible marriage.

 _Since Harry had woken up under the time bubble, he and his cousin had been inseparable. Virgil was sure that the only time that they had indeed separated for had been to go to the toilette or to bed._

 _The two gave him hope for both the Head Line and the future of the Australian Line. He was, through his duties to one and Headship of the other, deeply invested in the future of both of the teenagers._

" _Therefore, you will be learning from the memories and portraits of the Lord and Lady Potters we can find. The portraits will test your knowledge and retention."_

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 **Harry's POV of the memory**

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 _A little cheer went through Harry. He had heard about Family Grimoires from Henriette. They were supposed to be vast collections of spells, wisdom and secret adventures left by Heads of House and prominent ancestors for their progeny. He was worried that his training would consist of lessons out of a book. He knew he wasn't the best student in the world, and nowhere near as academically disciplined as students like Hermione or apparently Henriette._

 _His strengths lie in practical applications. He could spend hours reading a book and never understand the spell, but after a few tries, he usually had it._

 _His studies at Hogwarts had proven such. He always did doubly well in practical exams compared to theory-based ones._

I wonder if I will learn from my father, grandfather or great-grandfather… Henriette said she's seen the portrait of Charlus Potter in Uncle Virgil's study. The portraits of all Lords and Ladies Potter should be in the Hall of Potters at Potter Manor.

" _For the past few weeks, we've intensively chronicled our ancestors since the birth of the First Potter, Leopold Potter in 1271. We've discussed and debated who they were, browsed their memories and learned their stories. Today's lesson," Uncle Virgil said in his gravelly voice, "is a lesson in Family Magik. Henriette knows a bit about this already, but there are certain aspects that not even I am privy to as Head of this branch of our family. There is no simple spell or charm that allows you to receive knowledge without damaging your own mind. For this reason, I've asked my father's portrait to spend the next few days explaining in detail the Family Magik."_

 _Harry let out a breath he hadn't known he was holding. He really wanted to see his father's portrait, but after the emotional high of the days past, he wasn't sure if he could handle it just yet._

 _Henriette gave him a small nudge and pointed to the fireplace. Above the mantel hung a rather majestic looking portrait, opulent gold and silver etchings reminding Harry again of his family's affluence._

 _Uncle Virgil nodded coldly yet respectfully to his father's image in the frame before turning and exiting the room._

 _After quite a few minutes of uncomfortable silence, and the shuffling it caused both Harry and Henriette to do, Harry turned to his cousin and whispered. "Do you think we are supposed to tap him with our wands or something?"_

 _Although his question was quite serious, Henriette giggled slightly. She was interrupted before she could speak._

" _So, you are the worthless sprogs of my loins deemed worth enough to call yourselves Lord and Lady of our Family. I must be turning in my grave. A filthy half-blood and his worthless namesake."_

" _How dar-." Henriette began furiously. Harry was too dumbstruck by the portrait's vitriol to even blink._

" _HOW DARE I? **HOW DARE I**? I am Honorable Lord Hardwin Victor Potter, _ the First Potter _in time memorable!" Their regal ancestor sprung up from his throne-like chair and leered down at them from his spot above the mantelpiece. "You have the gall and audacity to even speak in my presence?_ _You wretched, worthless weak-minded daughter of a squib!"*_

 _Harry was suddenly reminded of his Potions professor. Years of abuse in his classroom had left Harry somewhat desensitized. He noticed however that Henriette was close to tears. A small flame burned in his stomach._

" _In my day, I would have had you whipped silly and crucioed you for good measure!" Their ancestor continued on a roll. "And you, **boy** , are you a mute? Or are you too much of a mollycoddled, teat-suckling to even speak your mind?"_

 _Harry burned red but remained silent._

" _I don't know what made my son believe either of you has the Family's Blessing, ability or willpower to even lead this family." He growled. "Look at you, sniveling and crying like spanked toddlers - STOP YOUR SNIFFLING, WEIB"_

" _ **ENOUGH**!" Harry bellowed standing up. He didn't notice at the time, but every part of the house under the time bubble trembled from his magic. "You stand there, a treacherous murderer of our forefathers and spew bile at us for wanted to lead the remnants of the family you destroyed. How dare _ you! _" Harry spat on the ground before the fireplace, not noticing his spit burning a hole in the carpet._

 _He hauled Henriette to her feet and made to leave the despicable portrait behind him._

" _Good." A calm and satisfied voice called out softly from behind them. "I was worried that you would be too repressed and mentally stunted to handle verbal abuse." Harry turned to the apparently emotionally unhinged ancestor. The man was now smiling somewhat at the two of them._

" _The one thing all Lord Potters," he cast an unfamiliar look of understanding at Henriette, "and Lady Potters are known for is their endless strength, the power in their words, and their resolute protection of those they_ love _." A pained look passed across his eyes, making Harry briefly forget the fact that the man in the portrait was just that - a magical depiction. The look was gone before Harry could dwell on it._

" _Young Henry, what will our family motto be under your Headship?"_

 _Harry's chin tilted up. He had discussed this with Uncle Virgil the night before. "Familia super omnia."_

 _A spark of pride appeared in the man's eyes. "Family above all else... May your motto carry the Family into an era of prosperity and fortune."_

" _Long live the Potters!" Harry declared, feeling the Family Magik revving up around him._

" _Long may we be!" Hardwin Potter intoned proudly. As the Family Magik settled around them, he gestured to the chairs that they had just vacated. Harry hesitated but ended up leading Henriette back to their original seating._

 _Four hours later, at the conclusion of the lesson, Harry left the room alone and on a mission. Family Magik swarmed around him like a mother welcoming back her long-awaited son. It was ironic that the one Potter Lord who was said to have betrayed the family in the worst way possible would be the one to unlock the hidden strengths of the upcoming Lord Potter._

Even in his potion-induced coma, Harry twitched as his Family Magik jump-started his Occlumency shields. Luckily for him, no one was in the Hogwarts Hospital Wing to observe the fluctuation in his brain activity.

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 **Memory: Day 266 under the Potter Time-Bubble**

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" _Hurry Henry!"_

 _Harry rolled his eyes exasperatedly at Henriette's half-naked back. They had just_ hosted _their tenth event under the time-bubble. She was quickly changing out of one dress and into the other. He quickly turned around and began doing the same with his dress robes._

 _He sighed at the unfairness of it all. If being Lord Potter were only about learning his family's secrets, history and Magik, he would be halfway done._ I can even deal with the politicking. _But hosting social events was beyond him. Henriette was in her element, having attended and analyzed such events since infancy. Even though she was also new to the Lady thing, she still picked up the social aspects much quicker than Harry._

She's like Hermione…

 _He quickly forced his Occlumency shields to shut down that line of thought. He promised himself that he would reduce the time he spent thinking about his friends outside of the bubble after his crippling, nostalgia attack a few bubble months ago. He was even hearing Hermione's voice in his head now._ Why did Hermione's voice sound so sad?

" _Zip please!" Harry turned and automatically zipped her dress up. He wondered briefly how she managed to breathe in that._

" _If we hurry," She said, slipping into a strapless white dress robe, as Harry buttoned his shirt, "we can play a game of Quidditch."_

 _He quickly turned her around and gave her a peck on the cheek. "Now you're speaking my language, despite the blackmail... fluff!"_

 _"What did I tell you about using that ridiculous nickname!?" He ducked her fist swinging in his direction._

 _Harry chuckled senselessly, attempting to tie his tie. Still no luck after five months of trying. "It's not my fault that your," he cupped air near his chest to represent her breasts, "are just_ now _getting bigger. You shouldn't have stuffed tissues into your braiser to make them look fuller. You should have known that Aunt Alex and Aunt Joan would notice it and say something!"_

" _You shouldn't have laughed in the middle of dinner." She growled at him while fixing his tie and dress robes._

" _How would you respond to someone saying 'Oh my. It looks like her left one has run out of_ fluff' _?" He suddenly could not breathe as she pulled the tie too tight. "HEY!"_

 _She wandlessly summoned her fur and purse. "If only they could see you after you've had one of those dreams of yours,_ spotty _!"_

 _Harry cringed as he readjusted his tie. That was the most awkward moment of his life, inside or outside the time-bubble. Henriette had come into his room to wake him up after he had a rather_ wet _dream._

" _Come on! Let's put this behind us!" She said slipping her arm through his and putting on her most authentic, elite pureblood mask. He sighed and did the same before leading them both to the main ballroom. Despite her indifferent words, he felt the girl tremble in excitement as they walked down the beautiful staircase. Harry was pretty sure that the only people excited about these practice balls, dinners and gatherings were the women and the house elves. Everyone had been given a new wardrobe, and Henriette more than ready to show off the growing mounds of flesh on her chest._

" _Ah Lord Potter, Lady Potter. So kind of you to join us." Uncle Virgil said imperiously._

 _Harry rolled his mental eyes. He reached out to shake his uncle's hand. The better he acted, the more authentic it came across, the quicker he could get on the pitch._ Now that's motivation!

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 **Outside the memory**

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Despite his comatose state, Harry cracked a small smile.

Hermione gasped from her spot at his side. She had spent the last few moments apologizing for her reaction and behavior of the last two months. And now Harry was responding…

" **MADAME POMFREY**! Come quickly. He moved! HARRY MOVED!"

Madame Pomfrey rushed over from her office to Harry's bed, her headdress askew. "MISS GRANGER! What on earth are you doing in here! How did you even get in-."

Suddenly, the room shook around them. Stones fell from the ceiling, and Hermione quickly sheltered herself and Harry. In a blink of an eye, a group of wizards dressed in black teleported into the Hospital Wing. Her screams were swallowed up by the rumbling sound.

Her immediate thought that it was impossible to apparate into Hogwarts was swept aside by the realization that Death Eaters had done just that.

Hermione immediately cast every defense and offensive spell she knew of at the men, as they moved as one towards Harry's bed. Her spells merely rolled off of their cloaks. She heard the disgusting sound of a body getting hit by a large mass of falling stones. She let loose a cry of mourning as she laid eyes on Madame Pomfrey's crushed form.

The Auror guards she had managed to give the slip using Harry's Invisibility Cloak rushed into the Hospital Wing with shouts. Whether they would have been able to defeat the men in black, Hermione didn't get a chance to speculate on. An earsplitting explosion was the last she heard. She held on to Harry's hand until he was suddenly no longer there, and the world around her exploded in pain and darkness.

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 **Memory: Day 511 under the Potter Time-Bubble**

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 _Harry sat in his favorite chair in the sitting room on the first floor. Hardwin Potter's portrait still hung above the mantle. The man had absolutely refused to have his portrait moved out of Harry's favorite spot._

 _Harry found himself conversing often with the man whenever he needed an hour or two away from Henriette. A good butterbeer and a small chat with someone not alive was the best way for him to rejuvenate._

 _His schedule now was full of "R-obscure" magic - rituals, rites and runes - and ways to hide the fact that he had learned it at all. Uncle Virgil was nearly obsessive about his belief that both Dumbledore and Voldemort should be caught unawares by his new magical knowledge and prowess._

 _He was learning how to fine-tune his release of Family Magik. The hole his spittle had burned into the carpet was left as a reminder of what Family Magik could do._

 _Today, Harry was privileged enough to have Charlus Potter join their little Lords' conference._

" _It's a shame that Charles and James' portraits were not brought in before the fire chat spell was cast. I believe you would have learned a lot from my son." He threw a hard look at his father on the other end of the portrait. "And every son of this Family should meet their father."_

 _Harry rolled his eyes as the two began bickering like teens. He could see from the smile on Hardwin Potter's face that he actually enjoyed the tete-a-tete with his son. According to Uncle Virgil, Hardwin's portrait had been ignored by all others for over a century, even the portrait of his son ignored him._

 _Harry suddenly sat his butterbeer on the table and looked around in suspicion. He felt a sloppy penetration of his Occlumency shields. It was as if someone wasn't attempting to hide their intrusion and was trying to make their presence known. He blinked and found himself suddenly sitting next to a copy of himself_ in a memory _. The realization began to clear up cobwebs in his head. He rubbed his eyes as the memory began to speed up around him. The two men in the portrait were talking to each other and to the copy-Harry in an accelerated way._

 _Harry reached for his wand and stood up. He was in a memory and someone was watching it with him. He cast a wandless mental protection charm around himself and repelled the attack. The memory slowed down suddenly._

" ** _The boy's got it!" A familiar voice echoed in his mind. "I told you, his mental defenses are second to few."_**

 _Harry felt the prickle of his Occlumency shields being tugged at once more. This time it was a subtle invasion. He quickly cleared his mind, pumped more magic into his shields. He invoked Family Magik to protect the family secrets in his mind. The scene in front of him changed. He found himself within his mindscape, a large Quidditch field with multiple rings of stands surrounding the hoops in the middle._

 _The mindscape reached its vertical limitations at the top of the middle hoops. The stands reached up just as high so intruders have to wander for a long time before they found his hoops. Attacking the stands forced his basilisks, goblins, gargoyles and dragons to attack the intruder. The stands also reformed instantly and changed so the people would lose their orientation._

 _He had built his mindscape in such a way that intruders would focus on the hoops in the center, which were actually more traps, and ignore the land upon which everything was situated. A secret stairwell underneath the stands led to a gem-filled cellar. Those were memories that he didn't care much about. Another secret entrance under the trunk of gems led to a Gringotts vault, guarded by a dragon and that only opened to his Parseltongue phrase and blood. The rest of his memories and secrets were stored there._

 _He considered his five rings of stone stands. The outer three were so decrepit that he immediately locked down the inner two._

Why on Earth are my shields so low?

" ** _Harry. This is FC. I'm on the edge of your mind." FC voice no longer echoed around him. It sounded as if he were sitting right next to Harry._**

 _He could feel his magic searching for and forcibly expelling hidden, foreign entities in his body._ Potions _, Harry thought with a snarl_. Someone bloody drugged me!

 _He forcibly closed all connections to his mind and let his body clean shop. He analyzed his most recent memory, up to FC being Kissed by a Dementor. A brief pang of sorrow went through him before he cleared his mind once more._

 _After some time, he felt the familiar presence again._ I saw FC receive a Dementor Kiss. He can't be in my mind!

" ** _Who taught me to drink Firewhiskey? And where did it end up?"_** _Harry called out finally._

 ** _The voice seemed over-joyed with the very question._** **"I _did - under the Time-Bubble. You preferred Butterbeer, but grandfather Hardwin said that was for toddlers, so we spent the night in the cellar. You sicked up all over my shoes… I still don't know how it got_ in** **_my left shoe."_**

 _Harry gave a teary laugh._

" ** _How is this possible… I watched the Dementor Kiss you!"_**

 _FC's voice sighed._ ** _"With magic-"_**

" ** _\- anything is possible."_** _Harry finished automatically._

 _Harry pushed more magic into fixing his mental shields, their physical representation in his mind and removing whatever was drugging him from his body. His anger at being rendered unconscious by a potion was fueling his will and accelerating his magic._

 _He felt his physical body jolt as magic streamed through it. He felt like he was on fire for a moment and then cold and sweaty._

 _His body jolted again, this time with a rather familiar stomach clenching..._

With a rather frightening shake, Harry shot up from his prone position and projectile vomited to his left. After a few moments of dry heaving, he was offered a glass of water - his magic scanning the glass for any potions or substances before even reached his lips.

He slowly cracked open his eyes to see that three people surrounded his bed. The brightness of the sun shining through the window was quickly taken care of by his magic.

Sirius jumped slightly as the curtains closed suddenly behind him. Harry almost chuckled at the reaction, but his body felt so stiff and _unused_.

He turned to see FC spelling away the sick up on his robes. Harry blushed slightly as his uncle threw him an exasperated and knowing look as if to say _"Really? Again?"_

"Inv'rat Po," Harry said weakly. Sirius looked at the person next to him confused. _Draco Malfoy, what on Earth happened while I was unconscious!?_

"He's asking for an Invigoration Potion." The blond said, giving Harry a sharp look. "I'm surprised you even know what that is, Po- Lord Potter."

Harry could only smile weakly in return. FC quickly called for a house-elf to bring it and a Pepper-Up potion.

"Tw'Nutri't." He said simply to Malfoy, who translated the Harry-speech to the other two.

"Two highly concentrated nutrition potions. I imagine his magic must be repairing everything it can, but it will need fuel."

FC nodded and ordered as the blonde suggested. FC asked Sirius and Draco to excuse them for a moment for Potter Family business. The blonde left without a word, as courtesy demanded. Sirius seemed hesitant to leave his newly awakened godson, but FC's magic flared slightly. Sirius gave a curt nod and left as well.

Many disgusting potions later, Harry still felt weak but was a least a bit more lucid and responsive.

"What should I know about?" He asked hoarsely.

FC spent the next two hours of debriefing Harry, referring to and skimming through newspaper articles that clarified or verified certain information. Harry logged everything away and requested all of the newspapers be put in his study with a time-turner. FC made to depart as the sun disappeared over the horizon.

"It's good to have you back, Henry." The man said before closing the door.

Harry wished he could have agreed.

He felt a horrible headache brewing on the edge of his mind. He quickly summoned his private house-elf Kali for a Headache Relief and a Dreamless Sleep potion and gave Kali a message to pass on to Sirius and Malfoy that they should return tomorrow at dinner

Family Magik thrummed around him as he knocked back the Dreamless Sleep potion.

 _What a clusterfuck, Henriette_ , was his last conscious thought before darkness met him.

 **.**

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* * *

 **.**

 **.**

 **AN**

* The phrase "filthy son of a Squib" comes from "Growing Up Black" by Elvendork Nigellus and "Harry McGonagall" from witowsmp. These are two, highly recommended and rather marvelous pieces of fanlit.

 **Betaed by** Marc the Unruly


	13. Chapter 13: Dungeons and Dragons

**.**

 **.**

 **Chapter Thirteen: Dungeons and Dragons**

 **.**

 **.**

Harry awoke the next day feeling very refreshed, with a smile on his face and a hunger that would put a Roman legion to shame.

It took a moment for his mind to catch up with the events of the past two weeks, but, once it had, a fury unprecedented came over him.

He shook his head. _I need to meditate and focus._

He asked his personal elf at Potter Manor, Kali, for some breakfast for him to take in his study and to alert the other elves that they were not to speak of his reawakening to anyone including and especially Henriette.

 _That should buy me some time to sort this mess out._

Harry stretched and made his way to the bathroom. The Invigoration Draught had worked wonders, he felt. The potion was one of the most difficult to brew, and he had been brewed himself. Under the time-bubble, it had become quickly clear to him that he was more than capable of brewing the harder potions when he needed to lose all sense of place and time.

 _Maybe I'll stop by the potions lab to calm down after finding out what the hell Henriette had been thinking of with her latest actions._

He could think of no simple way to rejoin society - since he was currently "kidnapped by Death Eaters" - or find out how Hermione and Ron were doing in the aftermath of the rescue mission two days prior.

He sighed out loud as the hot water cascaded down his back.

Dumbledore was a complete other set of problems.

 _How dare he!_ Harry wasn't even sure where to begin with Dumbledore's list of recent atrocities and illegal actions against him _and_ his House. _He should have left me in Henriette's care. Not to mention his poisoning me!_ If he had given Harry to Henriette, maybe Harry wouldn't be in the mess he currently was. He had a feeling that he would have to take the man down a peg or two publicly.

He made his way to his study after his shower and luckily came across no one. His study was also pleasantly empty.

He could see where Henriette had already made herself at home. She had a rather meticulous manner when it came to paperwork and the like. All of the books he had left on his desk had been restacked, letters and paperwork were stacked in three neat piles and her favorite ostrich quill lay sharpened and ready. Even the chair behind his desk was reset to accommodate someone a few inches shorter than he was.

Interestingly enough, he had no problem with her taking the reins in his absence. He just had the feeling that she expected his absence to last a lot longer than it should have, especially if she had been doing everything in her power to get him back on his feet again.

 _And if FC hadn't defied her orders and intervened..._

"Kali," he said, summoning his elf who popped in immediately, "please bring the post with breakfast." He turned back to the newspapers FC had given him yesterday.

"Kali can't, Master Lordship." The elf said, pulling at its ears in distress. "Mistress Ladyship has ordered that all post be going to her."

Harry growled softly. Even though his ire was not directed at the elf, he noticed that he still frightened the little being something dreadful and forced himself to calm down. "Then tell her the post was late or something. Do not allow her in my study. If you can, gather all of the post meant for me over the past two and a half weeks, please. Also please go to the Daily Prophet and buy one of every newspaper they've printed since Halloween."

The elf nodded furiously before popping away.

His awesome elf brought Harry a hearty breakfast and a stack of newspapers not even a few minutes later. Harry made a mental note to do something wonderful for Kali and the other thirteen elves at the manor. _Maybe I should have a small elf party for Christmas._

With distaste marring his face, Harry got to work on the newspapers. He used the Family's time-turner three times and went each time into his private library as not to disturb his previous self. He only had to leave the door open a crack and summon the newspapers he had yet to read through the door.

He had found out just before the Battle of Azkaban that he could handle brief glimpses of his past or future self without being driven insane. He wondered briefly if that was a side-effect of seeing himself conjuring a Patronus in his third year or if it had something to do with the Potter Family Magiks.

He wrote a brief note to himself to look that up. He had often contemplated the possibility of training with himself, but he wondered if that would lead to a paradox. What would happen if he accidentally or fatally injured himself? He sent a note to his Uncle Milton. That was a research topic right up his alley.

Harry then made sure to read through each article, even the ones not about him. Just as he had been taught by Uncle Virgil. As suspected, he was mentioned in 60% of the articles even if the article wasn't explicitly about him. _How someone managed to include me in an announcement about a new hair removal potion is beyond me._

He had been hailed the Hero of Azkaban, sharing the title in a few articles with the Azkaban ferrier, Haros Caronte. Caronte had also sent him two letters, both unopened by Henriette, requesting an appointment to discuss his Patronus, some research on Dementors and the life debt Caronte had acquired. Harry made a note to respond to the man tomorrow. Harry was called the most powerful wizard since Dumbledore - something Dumbledore seemed to publicly support. There was an entire special edition of the _Prophet_ on the "great powers of Lord Potter". Harry shook his head in disgust.

In the aftermath of the battle, Harry was suddenly the tragic hero, the victim of a custody battle that never should have occurred in the first place. There were reports of women crying in the streets. And finally, most recently, he was the Death Eater's captive. He had a feeling the women would be back in the streets again.

His brow furrowed as he noticed Henriette's presence in and influence of the press becoming steadily more and more apparent as the articles progressed. Despite her foreign roots, the world sympathized with her. She was the sharp, Lady Regnant who was proud of her fallen Lord and yet sad to have to step into the limelight in his absence.

 _Codswallop. Henriette is a top-notch actress._ He knew that, but the rest of the world was eating it all up.

It was on his third time-turn that he stumbled across a passage in the article from the day prior that made his blood run cold - a passage about one Hermione Jane Granger.

 _Among the 31 students transferred to St. Mungo's for healing was one Ms. Hermione Granger, the muggleborn friend of Lord Potter. According to reliable sources, Ms. Granger was found within the Hospital Wing and her wand was registered having used many defensive and violent spells, most likely to protect the bedridden Lord Potter from his attackers. A powerful heroine for a powerful hero. St. Mungos reports that Ms. Granger was hit with a powerful stunning spell and later crushed by fallen rocks. Our muggleborn heroine was listed in critical condition as of this morning. (For a full list of deceased and injured students, see page 3. For more on Lord Potter's relationship with Ms. Granger, see the reprint of Rita Skeeter's article from February on page 12)._

The logical part of his brain told him to read the rest of the paper and the remaining seven papers as well. But, Harry couldn't. His rational mind also told him to put on something other than his white pyjamas, not to burst into his study with his previous self present, and to leave instructions with Kali. Another, louder part of his mind told him to go to her immediately.

He jumped out of his seat, summoned his wand wandlessly, ran into his study (ignoring his startled other self) and jumped in the floo - destination St. Mungo's.

He arrived at the floo entrance inside the hospital a soot-covered tangle of limbs. A medi-witch on staff immediately came up to him but he rushed past her.

He ran to the golden-haired Welcome Witch and was promptly given the room number for Hermione after stating his name. It never crossed his mind to watch the witch who quickly and covertly pressed her wand to her left arm as he ran toward the station she had given him.

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* * *

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.

Drs. Jean and Hugh Granger had feared many things in their time together, their only daughter being the main component in almost all of them.

Hermione had been a surprise, a pleasant one of course, but she had been a surprise nonetheless. They had been nearly at the end of their practical examinations at the Manchester Dental School when Jean was forced to go to the doctor after some dizzy spells and nausea.

They had had many discussions on the topic of abortion after they received the news. A baby had simply not factored into their short-term, career plans at all. They had wanted to do at least five years of research and have at least five years of practicing under their belts before they had a child. They could never tell Hermione, but the decision to have her had been one of the most difficult of their lives. They married in a private ceremony not even a month later and had their beautiful girl six months thereafter.

It had been a difficult birth for Jean. She found herself unable to have another baby, despite their wish to have two. They never told Hermione that either.

His name being called pulled him out of his thoughts. "Mr. Granger, you can go in now." The pretty witch with golden hair called him from the reception desk the waiting room.

Jean looked at her husband of sixteen years and rolled her eyes lightly. They both knew why he had been acknowledged and not her. As they made their way to their daughter's room, Hugh pondered another big fear of his. He knew of the dangers of the magical world, even more so than they had let on to Hermione. It was the biggest secret they kept from her daughter - Hugh's magical lineage.

Hugh was the last surviving, male descendant of Hector Dagworth-Granger. As the eldest son of three children before the untimely death of his father in a potions accident in 1960, it had been a major disappointment to the rest of his family to discover Hugh's magical levels had been just barely above those of a squib. He had been hidden, and later ultimately erased, from magical society just after his eleventh birthday had passed without the mandatory Hogwarts letter.

That had been the worst day of his life. The anticipation had been high for all, and the disappointment heartbreaking for him.

It was his own _family_ who snapped his wand days later, bound the little magic he had and shunted him off into the muggle world with a small stipend, a full-ride to Manchester Grammar School and without so much as a goodbye. The "Dagworth" was removed from his name, and he never saw his magical relatives again.

He was sure that they had been forbidden contact with him by his mother.

 _I wouldn't want to see the bastards anyway!_

He had been spat on by his mother's sister and mishandled by his mother's brother-in-law, who apparated him to the street in front of the boarding school and left him, teary-eyed and shaking, without a single word.

It was only following the death of his childless brother, Howard, and the birth of Hermione in 1979, that he had been inundated with post from his sister and mother regarding Hermione. The letters were not only clear in their disregard for him, but their interest in Hermione had been dubious at best. They wanted her to take on the name Dagworth-Granger to continue his father's legacy since his sister's children took the name of their father. Their knowledge of Hermione had come as a surprise at that time, but it had hit him later how they had found out about her.

 _Of course, Hermione and any other magical children Jean would have had would appear on the family tapestry as the remaining heirs of my father_.

Those letters and the ones that followed were immediately burned, unanswered. He dedicated a special place in his garden, where the neighbor's dog tended to relieve himself, to the ashes. The letters had dwindled to one per year around Christmas with a small increase after Hermione had been accepted by Hogwarts. Jean had come up with a great cover story for when Hermione was old enough to notice his odd, annual disappearances and began questioning them.

" _Papa needs some time to think about his family,"_ she had always said. " _They treated him quite badly_."

Hugh sighed as they reached the room where their beautiful daughter lay, lightly bandaged but visibly healthy in bed. He was happy to see her up and about. Yesterday she had not looked so swell. _Potions…_ he assumed with disgust, _are most likely the reason for her quick recovery_.

His magical levels, while low, had been adequate enough for him to work on potions as a child. He had been rather gifted with medicinal potions, even working on some that were more than likely sold to St. Mungo's. His mother had fully encouraged his brewing. He forced himself to turn his mind from his past.

As usual, his little queen had a huge book in her hand. He felt Jean grip his arm tightly.

" _A Collection of Over Three Hundred Recipes in Cookery, Physick, and Surgery", ed. Hector Dagworth-Granger_ , he read in his head. A small wave of anger went through him, but his wife's arm held him steady.

His ever observant daughter seemed to notice his discomfort and quickly lay the book to the side. He assumed she believed that magical things made him uncomfortable. _And she would be right._

Jean was immediately at Hermione's side. "How are you, dear?"

Hermione gave them a happy smile.

"The Healer says I will be out in two days." She seemed more relieved and happier than she should have been by the news.

Hermione gave her mother a quick, meaningful look, one that Hugh almost missed.

"I can't wait to come home." She said a little too quickly for his comfort. "But, I'm starting to feel a bit sleepy. You two don't have to stay. I don't want you to see me fall asleep."

Whatever hidden communication there was between Jean and Hermione, Jean seemed to finally catch on to the nonverbal messages. He saw as her shoulders stiffened and relaxed; a tick she had had since college.

There was another look, a kind of confirmation from his little girl. _The minxes_ … Hugh came up with a small plan.

He gave Hermione a small kiss on her, now, "tired" forehead and excused himself to go to the bathroom.

He was gone for maybe five minutes to give them more time to work on their story. He assumed that their actions had something to do with a boy. With Hermione basically asking for them to leave, it was also plausible that the boy was still in the hospital. He grinned. He looked forward to throwing a wrench into their scheming.

Hugh returned to a whispered conversation between his ladies which ended as soon as Hermione caught sight of him. He dried his hands on the paper towel he had taken with him to open the bathroom door and waited for them to make their move.

He didn't have to wait long.

His suspicions were soon confirmed as Jean cleared her throat, her back still to him. "Well, dear, we just happened to be in the area on our way to Dr. Rollworth's surgery. If you are going to head off to sleep, we'll just stop by tomorrow when you wake again."

Hermione, who was now in a near-slumber state, gave a small nod.

"Go easy on the… _reading_ , my little queen." He said, coming to give her another kiss, and stepping over his suitcase. "We will come tomorrow if you want."

Her small moan was all of the reaction he received before he and Jean said their goodbyes and departed.

It was just as they were nearing the waiting room that it suddenly _occurred_ to him that he forgot his suitcase.

"Oh no! My suitcase." He said abruptly. "Stay here, love. I'll be right back!"

"But-." Before Jean could even register it, he was sprinting off in the direction of their daughter's room.

 _Good God! I need to take up jogging again_. He was completely winded by the time he reached his daughter's room. He took a moment to catch his breath before he threw open the door as silently as he could.

"Sorry, my darling! I forgot my-." His words ended with a growl as he caught sight of the young man sitting on Hermione's bed. His _sleepy_ daughter was kneeling next to the boy, looking more than well rested. From the looks of things, he had just interrupted a rather private moment.

"And who might you be?" He bit out.

His red-faced daughter all but jumped off the bed. "Papa. This is-."

"I wasn't talking to you, Hermione Jean." He said simply. His anger chilled the words.

The raven-haired boy, who Hugh vaguely remembered from somewhere, seemed to come to himself and approached Hugh somewhat confidently.

The young man stuck out his hand. "Harry Potter, sir." _Ah._

"Of course you are." He took the offered hand roughly and a bit more firmly than necessary. "I've heard more about you than I would have preferred out of my teenage daughter's mouth. And definitely not enough for you to be so… _friendly_ on her bed." He deadpanned.

Both teens winced. Hugh did a small happy-dance in his head.

The young man, Harry Potter, seemed to lose the ability to speak for a moment.

"I… I assure you. I- uh. We-."

"What are your intentions toward my daughter, Mr. Potter?" Hugh said coldly, taking a step forward into the boy's comfort zone.

Despite his own magic being bound, he could feel the teen's magic flare against him. It hit him like a sentient gust of wind, suspicious and challenging. The teen cocked an eye at him. His green eyes lit up with a bright curiosity before they slowly narrowed distrustfully. A wand slowly slid into view.

"Hermione?" The boy asked, never taking his eyes off of Hugh. "Your parents are not magical, correct?"

Hugh's eyes widened nervously. Hermione looked at Harry's wand in shock.

"Yes. My parents are muggles."

The green eyes blazed with a ferocity that seemed to drill into Hugh's very bones. "I thought so."

One moment the verdant eyes flashed, and in the next Hugh suddenly found himself tightly wrapped in glowing blue chains, gagged and trussed up. He gasped in pain as his side hit the ground hard.

"HARRY!" His little girl yelled, grabbing the boy's wand hand.

"If your father is not magical, then the man on the floor is not your father. He has a magical core. I can sense it."

"What… that's impossible." His daughter was suddenly examining at him closely.

 _At least the boy can protect her well._ Hugh thought, chagrined.

"We should go find your mother, if that was even her," Harry said stepping over Hugh as if he were last week's rubbish.

"That was definitely my mother. We communicate very… uniquely with one another." Hermione said panicked.

The lights to the room flickered and died. Hugh could hear loud screams from outside the room.

"Oh no!" Hermione said, sounding panicked. "You don't think-."

"Get your wand out." The boy said simply, and the two left the room.

Not even moments later, Hugh heard a very familiar voice scream in pain.

 _JEAN!_

Sounds of fighting could be heard through the open door, and Hugh could feel a deep pain lancing through him as if punishing him for not being able to defend his wife and daughter.

The smell of burning metal reached his nose abruptly. It was only then that noticed the metal chains around him melting. The fury that burned through him for being incapacitated during an attack burning through the metal that restrained him.

He had nearly succeeded when the door opened once more. Hermione, looking a bit shaken, her black-haired friend, who was half carrying Jean, and a few men in crimson robes entered the room.

"Auror Tigris, we have an unidentified squib-leveled male in this room." One of the men said in a rather theatrically pompous voice.

"We can see that, Recruit Davis." The balding man nearest Hugh said with a roll of his eyes. The other man went red in the face.

"Squib!? My father isn't a squib." Hermione said in her matter-of-fact tone. Jean looked briefly at him in apology before she gave her daughter a truncated version of his family history.

"What? But… _The Dagworth-Granger_?!"

The green-eyed youth sized him up briefly and gave him an apologetic, lopsided smile. "I apologize for the chains, sir."

Hugh merely hugged his wife and shell-shocked daughter in response. "To protect my family, I would have done the same, young man. I am grateful that you kept my angels safe and returned them to me."

The two shared a brief look of understanding and mutual respect before roughly shaking hands.

"Men…" Hermione said with a look of frustration at her mother.

"Well, the meeting between the two of them could have gone better, but I actually expected bloodshed," Jane said in an exasperated tone that Hugh knew all too well. He hoped he wouldn't have to sleep on the couch tonight.

One of the wizards cleared his throat. "We will come to collect your statements after the clean-up, Lord Potter… _missus_." He nodded to Hermione and Jean. "Purely a formality, I assure you. We fought alongside you and saw most of what you saw. Where can we reach you?"

If Hugh ever wondered about the relationship between his little queen and the unruly haired teen, their moment of brief communication - which so resembled his own with his wife - convinced him that his little girl had found her... little king. The realization took him momentarily aback. His wife, ever the observant, gave the arm around her waist a little squeeze.

"I will be seeing to the care of Her- Ms. Granger and her parents. I also invite them to dinner tonight at Potter Manor." He received an enthusiastic nod from both Jean and Hermione. "You can find us there. Please stop by tomorrow, I wish to review my memories of the day. I spoke to no one of my visit so there might be a Death Eater spy at St. Mungo's."

The men nodded, fought over who would shake the boy's hand first and left once they had all had their turn. The young man - _Harry_ , Hugh reminded himself - quickly explained Side-Along Apparition to Jean. Since he and Jean had little to no magical cores, the magic would not be difficult for Harry to transport all of them simultaneously. His apparent limit of two magicals would not be reached.

Hugh could see his daughter and his wife both burning with questions about the magical cores and Apparition of non-magicals, but Harry merely asked them all to take his arm.

The unbelievably uncomfortable sensation left him feeling as if someone were trying to extract his navel with a hook and gave up after five minutes. The feeling brought forth the painful memory of his banishment from the magical world.

The psychedelic and nightmarish trip could not have taken more than three seconds, and Hugh found himself suddenly standing in an opulent room that reminded Hugh of a picture he once saw of Lord Archibald Wavell's luxurious study.

"Where were you? And who are they?" A chilly female voice said from the door frame. Hugh noticed his daughter tense slightly. He turned to see a female version of Harry glaring at the group. "You-."

Hugh was once more taken aback by Harry, this time because of the power he emitted.

" **Hold your tongue** ," he growled out. The girl flinched but still stood tall and defiant.

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* * *

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.

Harry was exercising all the self-control he had to not give his cousin the verbal lashing she so deserved.

"I will deal with you later." He said dismissively, hoping he could get the girl to retreat before he lost his control.

"Sure you will…" She spat, physically unable to enter the room but unwilling to remove herself from it. "First Azkaban, and now _this_!" She gestured angrily at Hermione. "If only you spent half of the time you do on gallivanting off to play the _savior_ and moping after this… this _demimondaine_ on Family issues, rather than heaping them on me!"

Harry flinched. She was unfortunately right. He did delegate everything he truly didn't want to deal with to her. All social calls went through her, all interior matters like spats between family members, the wedding, the Potter Gathering, and other menial work as well. He ran off to Hogwarts for some reprieve from the duties that he hadn't wanted from the beginning, leaving Henriette to take care of everything.

It made him feel like rubbish.

And he had to give it to the girl, she always came up with the best insults. "I-."

"What did you call me?!" Harry almost face-palmed at Hermione's response. He definitely didn't want the two to start fighting. His talk with Hermione in the hospital finally gave him some insight on the interaction between the two. He had been unbelievably dim and unobservant back then not to notice the Family Magik in play and the tension between Hermione and Henriette.

 _Not that me being unobservant is anything new_ , he thought self-critically.

Henriette's countenance darkened considerably at Hermione. "I called you what you are! You do and have done nothing but keep my cousin in trouble and distracted from his familial responsibilities. A common strumpet with whom my weak-minded cousin is smitten - a distraction in a low-quality skirt! A -."

"ENOUGH!" Harry bellowed. He infused a bit of Family Magik in his words, but Henriette was on a roll.

"- small-minded, know-it-all, first gen whose very existence is preventing Harry from leading the family to where it should be! As Lady Potter, I prohibit your presence in this House! _Elves_!"

There was a moment of silence. Harry felt his face go blank. Two house elves, coming to carry out the wishes of the Lady of the Manor, popped into the room. Upon seeing Harry, they looked confused from Harry to Henriette, who now seemed to realize that she had gone too far.

"Go back to your duties," Harry growled. He did not even notice the two elves hastily remove themselves out of the line of fire, nor that the lights in the room darkened, nor that a small glow surrounded his frame.

"You are _not_ Lady Potter." He clarified simply. "You will never be _my_ Lady Potter. You are my cousin no matter how distant, what our Family Magik desires, or what the inbred social elite believes. I will never marry you." His anger was so heavy and potent that family members began apparating, flooing, and portkeying to the Manor to see if everything was okay.

He could feel the wards admitting them, the Family Magik welcoming them.

Henriette's eyes looked pained at the thought of not being his Lady Potter. Her eyes flickered angrily to Hermione. If she hadn't been trapped by the magic in the doorframe, she probably would have physically attacked Hermione.

"You **_dare_**. You _expropriated_ the Ladyship you now so freely wield! How can you stand there with such arrogance and good conscience when you were willing to let me be mentally raped, and left in a magical coma so you can arrogate and usurp your so coveted dream position!"

He was breathing so heavily that one had the impression he was physically keeping himself restrained.

"I did n-."

" ** _BITE YOUR TONGUE, WEIB!_** "

Harry roared, banging his hand on his desk. His mind briefly flashed back to an argument under the time bubble where Hardwin Potter's portrait yelled the same thing at her. He only felt slightly guilty as a small dribble of blood trickled out of the corner of Henriette's mouth as the Family Magik forced his will on her.

"You know as well as I, that our Family is of direct, Gryffindor lineage. We can command the Hogwarts wards, even if only partially! If you wanted, you could have had me out of there in moments and without anyone knowing!" He could see FC actually face-palming in the crowd of the family gathering in the corridor behind the frozen Henriette. He most likely hadn't thought of that.

"The question is: why. Why did you allow me to remain in a coma at the whim of a deranged Light Lord?"

He stormed up to her and captured her eyes in his before throwing himself into her mind. She cried out at the violent, mental intrusion. He brutally broke through her shields in moments. She went limp in the invisible bonds holding her upright.

He grabbed at her thoughts about his coma and incapacity. He batted away her futile attempts to protect her thoughts, getting more and more annoyed with his cousin.

After seeing what he came for, he withdrew from her mind in disgust. He spat on the ground before her feet. A small fire began where the spittle hit the carpet. In the corner of his eye, Harry could see her mother being held back by FC.

"You concocted that ridiculous plan to prove that you have some semblance of power outside of organizing social events. Your plan to make your big debut in Magical Britain over my comatose body ended with the death of numerous, innocent _children_!" He growled. "I hope you are proud of yourself."

He turned his back on her. "Were you not favored by our Family Magik, I would disown you this very moment." A ripple of distress went through the crowd outside his door. As much as he wanted to dismiss them and the Grangers, he knew that would be illogical now that they had heard all of the conversation thus far.

His mind flew to the letter he would have received on Halloween from the new Lord Malfoy. His calculating mind quickly connecting the dots to Malfoy's visit yesterday.

"Kali!" He called out to his personal elf as he made his way to his desk. He would send Henriette to her chambers and call for Malfoy.

After a moment or two of searching for the aforementioned letter without Kali showing, he turned back to his cousin with a burning glare. He had not stayed in her mind long enough to catch her most recent memories, but he could make an educated guess at why Kali wasn't responding.

"Dali!" The personal elf to Henriette popped in immediately.

She gave a shaky but deep bow. "Milord."

"Where is Kali?" The elf gave a squeak of sadness and burst into tears. If Harry remembered correctly, Kali and Dali were bonded mates.

"Well?" He barked, making Dali only sob more intensely. He saw Hermione frown deeply at this, and he took a second to calm himself again. "I'm sorry, Dali. Please tell me quickly why Kali won't respond." He said softly.

Dali blew her nose in a handkerchief that looked suspiciously like Kali's uniform. "Kali refused Mistress Milady entrance to Milord's study. Mistress punished him til he couldn't move and gave him _clothes_."

Harry's fury detonated in a violent flare of red magic. Everyone was forced to the ground as his anger washed over them in waves. If there were any doubts about his power, they were immediately swept away.

When he had calmed down once more, he spoke softly but authoritatively to the cowering Dali. "Raise, Dali. You have nothing to fear from me. How long does Kali have to live?"

"Not much longer, Mas-Milord." She squeaked, tears flowing anew.

"Then we have no time to spare, bring him here as soon as you find him. With haste!" Dali was gone before he could finish his sentence.

He collapsed into the massive chair near the fireplace. The others inside and outside of the room began righting themselves. Harry meditated briefly, this time using Family Magik to calm himself.

"You had no right, Henriette," Harry called out simply.

"No right!? Of course, I had a right." She spat out blood. "I was not told you were awake. I was not told you were coherent. I was not even told that you were reading your mail."

Harry's eyes widened at her guts.

"Your elf refused to tell me what I deserved to know! It was insubordination."

Harry raised a hand and wandlessly sealed her mouth. "Nothing but vile things come out of your mouth. It will remain sealed until I say. So mote it be." No one spoke aloud, but Harry could hear Henriette's mother, Alexandra Potter, née Rosier, weeping in the background.

Dali returned seconds thereafter with a battered and weak-looking Kali in her arms.

Harry sprung around his desk and laid a hand on the elf's head. "I take thee, Kali, into the Potter Family. May we grow old and prosper together." There was a flash of light around the two of them. "Kali, for your loyalty to me and to our Family, I promote you to the position of Presiding Elf. You are to oversee the head elves of all Potter properties worldwide. You are to always speak your mind and be honest with me… my friend."

The, now slightly healthier looking, elf fell to his knees in shock. "Master Harry! You are too gracious. Please… please let me remain your personal elf. I is not wily enough to do what you ask of me." Harry was not surprised to hear that. "Kali knows an elf who would be though. I will bring him to Milord if Milord so wishes."

Harry nodded and gave the elf an affectionate pat on the shoulder. "Go and get healed, my friend." He turned to Dali after Kali popped away with a more serious tone. "Please inform all elves in this Manor and spread the news to all other Potter houses that no elf is to answer Henriette Potter. Her disgraceful treatment of Kali proves to me that she is simply incapable to even order a cup of tea."

This was the hard part, but he knew he had no choice but to do it and to do it publicly with family members present. His plan to confine Henriette to her chambers was no longer enough punishment for her. He took a shuddering breath and spoke with Family Magik coating his words. "For her traitorous actions against her Lord Potter, breaking the traditions and morals synonymous with this Family, and blatant abuse of her Regency, Henriette is henceforth _persona non grata_." A massive, collective gasp arose from the crowd of Potters; it was only a slight step above disowning. "She is not to be seen, heard or discussed until deemed permissible by me. So mote it be!"

"So mote it be." The crowd of Potters chanted in response as one.

"Dali, take her to the rooms in the dungeons. Bring her a meal three times a day." He looked Henriette in the eyes at this point. The defiance and anger he saw earlier in her eyes had broken off into a cold indifference. He needn't break into her mind again to know that she was hiding her true emotions.

 _She needs this small lesson_ , he reminded himself.

He sat down in his chair. All his anger left him, leaving him feeling drained and disgusted. Henriette was removed from the room.

Harry stared at the grandfather clock in the corner of his study. Where Molly Prewitt's clock used their Family Magik and DNA from their children to track how each child was doing, his clock told him of his lateness to a meeting - though not to which - and whether his breath smelt bad. He still hadn't figured out which of his clever ancestors created that piece of rubbish.

 _I bet it was Cygnius Potter. He stole numerous ideas from non-magicals and imbued them with magic in the seventeenth century._

He saw the crowd of Potters in front of his study door dispersing with no small effort from FC, who seemed to be answering questions at a rapid pace. _Merlin bless that man._

He turned to the Grangers who had remained quiet and observant on the side of his study. "I apologize. I would have preferred to deal with that in private." He pinched the bridge of his nose. He hated wearing glasses.

He didn't even need the things. His vision had been fixed while under the time-bubble. His simple glass lens were charmed to see small enchantments. It was one more thing to make his enemies underestimate him - one more thing Uncle Virgil had been adamant about him keeping secret. _Even Henriette doesn't know._

It was Mr. Granger who responded. "I'm not sure I understood everything that happened. But, from what I understand, you reacted honorably and admirably considering the circumstances." He shared a brief look with his wife. "You… also have a beautiful home. Could you show us more?"

Harry smiled. "I think Hermione has actually spent more time exploring this place than I have." He shared a small look with her. " _We_ will happily show you around." Hermione's smile brightened his whole day.

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* * *

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Harry finally gave a sigh of relief as Hermione's parents finally called it a night, and he was able to ask Kali to show them to the guest wing. They had accepted the calming draughts and bruise ointment without questions. Much to Hermione's astonishment, her father recalled having once been able to brew both easily as a child. That had started a long discussion on the Dagworth-Grangers to which Harry had happily supplied his knowledge.

He enjoyed a few moments in silence with Hermione before the wards alerted them to the arrival of two people. He could feel the Black Family Magik reach out to him as two members of that part of his family entered his proximity. He assumed it was Sirius and maybe Malfoy again. Sirius had blanket access to all Potter properties, as Harry's godfather, and was able to invite others if the wards deemed them to have noble intentions.

"It was really nice of you to side with your… elves." He could hear the disgust in her voice at the fact that he had elves. He decided not to speak on it.

"What Henriette did was wrong. Period." He said, grabbing the empty teacups left by her parents and putting them onto the tray. "It's important as Head of this Family to make sure each member is treated well. The Potter house elves are traditionally treated very well."

"I wish other families thought the same." She said, biting her lip. Harry could just sense the question coming. "Would he really have died if he hadn't been rebonded to you?"

Harry sat with a plop on the chair across from hers.

"Depends. Some elves are stronger than others. Kali was and is also very connected to the Family Magik rather than to the blood members. His magic has entwined with ours. To remove that…" He struggled for a comparison. "Would be like shutting off someone's life support. Their body would live for a while, but it would most likely die eventually."

"Whereas Dobby…" She pondered aloud.

"Dobby lived in fear, hated the Malfoys and was most likely enslaved to the blood lineage rather than a recipient of Family Magik. He most likely lasted a lot longer than Kali would have."

She sighed. "Hopefully he managed to find a family then. One day I will look more deeply into this Curse of Elderon and search for a counter." Her eyes sparkled at the challenge.

"Curse of - where did you find reference to that rubbish?" He said with a chuckle.

He realized how wrong that came out as she turned to him like a fury. "It's not rubbish! It is a horrible -."

Harry held up a diplomatic hand in the universal sign for peace.

"Sorry. That came out wrong." He wandlessly summoned two clean cups for his incoming guests. "The Curse is unproven conjecture that allows Light purebloods to sleep better at night for having slaves. It also makes house elves believe that their enslavement is inevitable."

"That's preposterous! Sirius gave me a few books that explained the curse and its history in detail." She said with such conviction that Harry also regretted what he was about to say.

He stirred his guests' tea absent-mindedly. "Elderon didn't exist." He said simply. He wondered why Sirius even gave her the idea to research that particular curse in the first place. _Maybe he got too tired of her going on about creature rights. Or maybe he doesn't know himself._ "I can promise you that the authors of the books you read were purebloods, more than likely Edward Jones or Frederick William Hamsterley in the 1700s. Both were commissioned by Minister of Magic Magdalena May Marchbanks to write that dribble."

As Hermione's mouth opened, a rebuttal waiting burst forth, Harry swiftly interjected. "Talk to FC or, better yet, talk to my Uncle Milton. He loves debating and refuting the legitimacy of centuries-old lore and theories like that."

He abruptly ended that part of the conversation as Sirius and Malfoy entered the room.

"Well met, Lord Black… Lord Malfoy." He greeted with a bow at the waist, respectful of their titles and stations.

They stopped a ways off from the two and gave equally deep bows in return, each declaring their peaceful intent by holding their wands in front of them the entire time. "Well met, Lord Potter."

Hermione watched with a small frown and observing eyes. He wished Henriette hadn't gone off the deep end. _She would be able to give Hermione a lesson or two in this stuff._

"May Magik bless this peaceful meeting of our three, blood-bound Houses." Harry intoned.

"So mote it be!" The two replied in unison. A small wind ruffled their cloaks before leaving as quickly as it came.

"Now that the stuffy stuff is over-." Sirius said stowing his wand and grabbing Harry up in a tight hug. Harry had a small flashback to Uncle Virgil's greeting in the Potter House in Melbourne. _He definitely said something similar._

Malfoy rolled his eyes at the man. Harry gestured to an empty seat on his left, which the blond promptly took before Harry levitated a warmed and ready cup of tea straight into Malfoy's hands.

The blond merely nodded before elegantly taking a sip. His eyes widened in shock before he took another.

"How many times could you have watched me prepare my cup at lunch for you to replicate it so accurately?" He gave a small smirk.

Harry detached himself from his godfather with a sheepish grin. "Know thy enemy."

Malfoy gave a true smile. "Indeed."

Harry quickly served Sirius, who sat next to Hermione after greeting her amicably.

"How can House Potter be of service to you fine gentlemen this evening?" He said in most aristocratic voice. Hermione did a double-take in shock.

Sirius choked slightly on his tea. "Wow." He said clearing his throat. "I doubt your father could have pulled off that voice as well as you just did, and he was trained since infancy…"

Harry gave an excellent imperious look. "Some of us are just gifted." He was surprised by how well he kept a straight face as Sirius let loose a deep, belly laugh.

Malfoy, who had already finished his tea and two raspberry biscuits, shook his head. "Unfortunately, I do not come bearing pleasant news."

Harry turned his full attention to the blond before refilling his cup.

"May I speak openly?" He gave Hermione a small, indecipherable look.

"She has my full confidence, even in Family Matters."

Sirius attempted to hide a massive grin behind his teacup. Harry had all but declared the unaware Hermione a soon-to-be addition to House Potter.

 _I wonder how many jokes he will manage to make._

"I see," Malfoy said simply, stirring one and a half sugars into his new cup of tea. "My mother was summoned before the Dark Lord yesterday and has asked me to relay a message in her absence." He took a long sip of the tea he had made himself. "The Dark Lord succeeded in taking over a dragon reserve in Romania yesterday. There were few survivors."

Hermione gasped. "Charlie Weasley works at a reserve in Romania!"

Malfoy nodded slowly. "Yes. He was one of the four kept alive. All others not of pureblooded English families were slaughtered by three of the Dark Lord's best fighters."

Harry felt a small chill go down his spine. While the bloodshed was terrible and saddening, the idea of Voldemort having dragons in his arsenal was absolutely terrifying.

"What are Tom's plans with the captured dragons?"

Malfoy flinched slightly at the name. Many purebloods found it revolting how _muggle_ their precious Dark Lord's name was. "My mother believed they will be used against the Ministry, Hogwarts or... _yourself_."

Harry sighed. He assumed as much. "You can confirm this?" He asked Sirius directly. Malfoy bristled at the apparent questioning of his mother's integrity.

"Yes. Dumbledore's spy in the Death Eater ranks confirmed the same. There are rumors in the Death Eater ranks of the upcoming attacks."

"How many fully grown dragons are we talking?"

Malfoy gave an uncomfortable look. "Around two to three dozen. There are some dragonlings and around a dozen more Ancients."

Harry closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair. _Merlin help us all._ This was a clever move by Voldemort, as much as it pained him to even think it. If there were only half a dozen, the Ministry could handle it easily. _Over two dozen dragons, that's an army in itself!_

He pondered his possibilities. One of the sons of the First Potter had been a dragon tamer. Arwas Potter was the reason why a dragon was a symbol of the Potter's Family Emblem and proof of their might in the 13th century. His research had been the first to be transcribed in the Family Grimoire after his memories were found in the Potter Manor vault.

Harry decided to revisit those recollections as soon as he had a moment. Hogwarts and the Ministry would have to be prepared and placed on high alert. Diagon Alley and Gringotts as well. _Oh Merlin. The Goblins will have a field day with this information._

"I assume they will be arriving soon?" He asked slowly.

Malfoy looked as if he expected the question. "Tomorrow. Tomorrow evening at the latest."

"Then I will be swift." Harry said simply. All thoughts of dragons left his mind as he noticed Malfoy shifting uncomfortably. Harry's mind quickly linked Malfoy's willingness to provide the information to the rather vague, blood-sealed letter he had sent Harry recently.

 _Let the political games begin_ , he sighed in his head.

"House Potter is more than grateful for your service and warnings. This is the second time Dowager Malfoy has given us warning of Riddle's activities... How can House Potter satisfy you, Lord Malfoy?"

Per tradition, Harry was only to state that House Potter was in House Malfoy's debt, and Malfoy could cash in on the debt at a later time. However, Harry preferred a direct approach. He also wanted to push Malfoy's hand. _Not to mention that such debts in precarious times like these could be dangerous_. A look of pure astonishment, then understanding and, finally, reluctant respect flickered across the blonde's face. Harry already knew what the blond would ask for. His letter vaguely hinted at his intentions.

Malfoy cleared his throat and set the half-emptied cup down.

"House Malfoy finds itself in a particularly… _unfortunate_ situation since the demise of its previous Lord Malfoy." _There are so many ways to interpret that,_ Harry thought with a mental snort. "Due to the attack on your person by the previous Lord Malfoy and our years of rivalry, House Malfoy would like to show its goodwill towards House Potter. I propose bringing our Families closer through matrimony to solidify a future of mutual benefits."

 _Translation: no matter how many charity events she participates in or good PR Narcissa Malfoy manages to bring home, Lucius' actions would continue to besmirch their family name. Therefore, the only way to better their social standing is to have some public form of forgiveness from himself and House Potter._

Before today, Harry would have politely declined immediately. Now, he saw it as a solution to two current Family issues: House Potter's indebtedness to House Malfoy and Henriette's ambitious dreams of being a Lady of a House. He had, of course, the legal authority to sign marriage contracts for any women in his family. No Potter had used such a contract for over two hundred years though. He could imagine the press going crazy at the traditional and Dark action and the possible shifting of his family's leanings.

As he contemplated in silence, Malfoy fidgeted more and more. He was sure Malfoy did not come up with this by himself. _This has Narcissa Malfoy written all over it._

He nodded. Malfoy released a breath he had been holding. _Let's see if he is still relieved at the end of the conversation!_

"I agree… under conditions. It will be the first time since 1722 that the Potters issue a marriage contract." Sirius nearly dropped his cup, and Hermione looked on the brink of exploding. Harry silenced both of them with a piercing look. "The _bride price_ will begin at two million galleons."

"Bu-but that is more than triple the highest this century!" The blond exclaimed in shock. It was true. Narcissa Black's _dowry_ of six hundred thousand galleons had been the talk of all Europe in the seventies.

"She is worth much more," Harry bit out, "as a pureblood of over 15 generations. There will be no need for Inheritance Clause or Heir Clauses for your children. And Henriette is a thoroughly trained and experienced Lady Regnant of her House who is, as you mentioned, marrying the rival of her Lord and the son of the man who all but assassinated her Lord - this will be the first union of its sort. It is truly unprecedented!"

Malfoy looked a bit green, but he still nodded quickly. Harry suddenly wished he had started off with a higher bid. _If Malfoy can swallow this so easily after the reparations for his family's financial donation to snakeface, the Malfoy coffers must be deeper than we assumed._

"And to preserve the image of my House, you will declare House Malfoy an Allied _Grey_ House of House Potter."

Harry was sure he would be reviewing the memory of this night many times just to see the fall of Malfoy's face over and over again.

The blond was rendered absolutely speechless.

"I expect an official announcement of the upcoming courtship and inevitable wedding in the _Daily Prophet_ after the first of December and by Yuletide. I will have the Family Lawyers draw up a traditional contract with respect to your stations." He stood, effectively ending the conversation.

Malfoy accepted his offered hand before leaving the Manor in a rush.

"Harry-." Hermione began angrily.

He gave her such a penetrating look that she fell back in her seat.

"Do not." He said with authority. "Please do not presume that you can debate with me on this. Do not assume I don't know how outdated and misogynistic that was. Do **not** insult my intelligence. With one swoop, I will give Henriette what she wants, Ladyship of a House, while defanging multiple potentially dangerous enemies and relieving my House of current and potential honor debts. That is how it is done! That is my duty."

Sirius gave a sigh. "I don't disagree with your logic, pup. But I can't agree with it either. I hope your cousin will be safe."

Harry nodded resolutely at him while blatantly ignoring Hermione's reddened face. "Her well-being, despite her latest treachery, will be my highest concern." He had an Unbreakable Oath in mind for ensuring Henriette's safety once the courtship began.

At Sirius' confused look, and for the rest of the evening, Harry gave his godfather a thorough briefing of Henriette's actions over the past weeks.

Hermione remained silent during the entire exchange. It was only after Sirius' departure and after he had escorted her to the guest wing where her parents were also situated for the night that she finally spoke to him.

"You have changed, Harry. You - you aren't the oblivious teenager who depended on me for homework help anymore." She blew out an exasperated puff of air. "I'm still trying to wrap my mind around who this new Lord Henry James Potter is. You have so many new opinions, new responsibilities, and perspectives - and the knowledge you have… There are many things I don't know about you…"

Thinking she was planning to estrange herself from him, Harry made to speak, to explain to her that he was still the person essentially, but she quickly interrupted him.

" _But_ I would still like to get to know the man my best friend has become. I would still like to be a part of your life. If you can bear my questions and... outbursts, that is."

Harry gave a small, nervous laugh. "I would like that very much." He gave her a large smile and stunned her with a light peck on the cheek as he said goodnight.

She squeaked something in response and fled into her room with a red face. Her departure meant she didn't notice his shaky movements as he made his way back to his study.

 _I can't believe I did that._

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 **AN**

I want to take a moment to give a shout-out to **old-crow** , one of my favorite authors with some marvelous stories to her/his name. Thank you for your reviews and for your feedback! I really appreciate it. Chapter 10 happens to be one of the chapters that I thoroughly enjoyed writing from beginning to end. I'm happy you liked it as well.

I also apologize for giving **King Kroniiclez** heartburn with the plot twists so far. :) And many thanks to **David305** for his corrections!

Thanks to everyone who reviewed, especially **Therio**! This feeds my muse people so keep them coming! This story will conclude in a few chapters with the possibility of two bonus chapter. If you have an awesome idea, some constructive criticism or other cool thoughts, feel free to hit me up.

 **Betaed by** Marc the Unruly


	14. Chapter 14: Tickle not sleeping Potters

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 **Chapter Fourteen: Potters dormiens nunquam titillandus**

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Harry sat in deep meditation. It was not the first nor would it be the last time he meditated. His Occlumency shields required a minimum of three to five hours every few days to stay strong. It was, however, his first time ever doing so with Family Magik in the wardroom of Potter Manor.

It was possibly the most magical and transcendent feeling he had ever had!

Potter Manor had been purposely built by his ancestors upon the intersection of two of the largest and most powerful, magical ley lines in Europe. These two "rivers of magic" branched off in multiple directions over continental Europe, Eurasia, all the way to North America and Africa. The fabled Atlantis was rumored to be located at the point where the five largest ley lines converged in the North Sea. Besides Hogwarts, which was built at the intersection of three such ley lines, no other magical building in England had such uninhibited access to the abundant "wild magic" within the earth.

 _And what an abundance it is!_

Harry felt as if he were high on some psychedelic drug - if he went off of Dudley's bragging with his friends after one of their "study sessions" - or aimlessly floating hundreds of feet above the ground on his Firebolt.

He reclined upon an elevated slate of vortexite, the stone which channeled and redirected the magical energy flow from the ley lines to the nearly twenty transmission stones surrounding it. These connected the excess magic which powered and warded Potter Manor to the reception stones at Potter properties worldwide.

Each house had a different stone. The tiger ironstone, a native stone of Australia, powered the sister stone at the Potter Country House in Melbourne. A two-footed pillar of sunstone powered its sister stone at the Potter Ranch in Austin, Texas. Each house also had its own focal and ward stones, which ultimately connected them with their respective ley line and with Potter Manor.

Surrounding Harry in a rather neat-looking concentric circle were multiple stones, all with different meanings and properties. All of the stones radiated an ethereal light and emitted such a powerful aura that Harry was rendered light-headed when he opened his eyes.

Yet, he meditated comfortably in the presence of such magical power, waiting for the moment of "amalgamation". While looking through the Family's Grimoire, he stumbled across one of his ancestor's protective measures for defending the wards against attacks from dragons and drakens - and extinct and even more dangerous relative of dragons. This _amalgamation_ was how Leopold Potter II, the son of the _First Potter_ and the acclaimed geomagus of his age, described the moment of connection to the wild magics of the ley lines when he built the original Potter manor in the fifteenth century. Wild magic, historically tamed only by the legendary Merlin, was the only sure defense against dragons. It was rumored that they connected to wild magic on a level unfathomable to humans, and that dragons respected the magic.

 _I can imagine why._

Harry recalled briefly the day Uncle Virgil showed him and Henriette the wardroom upon his return from Australia some months ago. Henriette nearly fainted as soon as the door was opened, overwhelmed by the power in the room, and Uncle Virgil had appeared close to following her. Harry recalled instantly feeling at home and energized.

He had been, and still was, awestruck by the room. The ward stones were truly a thing of beauty. The raised platform of beautifully mixed red and grey stone surrounded by nearly two dozen pillars of colorful mineral stones. Everything pulsated with a powerful glow, creating a show of light Harry could just watch it all day.

And watch, he did.

Today was the first time he had stepped foot into the room since he took control of the wards - this time with the mission to bond more wild magic to the Potter wardstones. The room had been his refuge after the unnerving and uncomfortable breakfast that morning. It was full of drama. Alexandra, Henriette's mom, had spent the first part of breakfast trying to get Harry to rethink his decision in regard to making Henriette a _persona non grata_ to the Family and sending her to the dungeon.

"If traitors to our Family and Family traditions are allowed to run rampant over everything this family has fought for, then I have _failed_ in my mission as Head of this Family!" Harry had growled pounding the table furiously.

Alexandra had retired angrily to her chambers shortly thereafter. Weirdly, Jonas followed her out, white-faced and shaky.

Uncle Milton and Uncle Orville feebly attempted to alleviate the tensions at the table by debating some random sequence of Arithmancy. It had fooled no one. Cousin Andrew and his fiancée Maeve excused themselves, both throwing Harry heavy looks. _Only Hermione seemed to be able to understand them._ FC took his breakfast in the library, leaving Harry completely open to questions from the rest of the family.

 _And then the newspaper arrived..._

Everyone seemed to have questions for him then. The _Daily Prophet_ had lauded his apparent escape from his Death Eater captives, and immediate defense of St. Mungo's from a Death Eater attack like he was the second coming of Merlin. Even Hermione's parents got in on shooting questions at him as if he were some sort of oracle.

Needless to say, he happily escorted Hermione and her parents to the door once they declared their intention to go home before he promptly fled to the wardroom.

He knew he would not be able to run forever, and Uncle Virgil would most likely be reaching out to him too once word of yesterday's events reached him. Harry shivered at the potential reaction to how he dealt with Henriette. Harry knew how much his great-granduncle wished to reunite the two Lines although the man had never said so.

A wave of anger went through him before he forced himself to clear his mind once more. He would deal with all of that once he increased the protections around Potter Manor.

An inevitable attack by dragons was more important than smoothing over some ruffled feathers. His desire to protect his family outweighed everything.

After a few minutes of meditation; there was a brief moment when he felt on the brink of _something_ before it was simply gone again. He opened his eyes in frustration. The flashing stones seemed to mock him with their glowing dance.

 _Come on, Harry. You can do this!_

Harry attempted once more to concentrate on… well, nothing. He closed his eyes and fell back into a relaxed state.

Just when his mind had cleared of all thoughts, at the point where he would normally begin with working on his Occlumency shields, he felt _it_ again.

His eyes flew open. There was _that_ feeling again. He had felt something similar moment to before his distracted mind had wandered. It was as though someone or something was knocking on his entire being, more so on his magical core, to let them in.

He suddenly felt giddy with excitement. He closed his eyes, steadied his breathing and relaxed once more. He never noticed the increasing intensity of the magic around him.

Something electric passed through him. A pulse of magic unlike any he had felt before went up _through_ the stone platform, charged through his magical core and seemed to flow out of the very pores of his skin. It was like a cautious animal, carefully testing to see if the coast were clear.

Harry's more cultivated magic seemed to encircle and observe this wilder magic for a few moments before it tentatively reached out to it. Harry lost track of time as the two magics slowly came closer and closer to one another. He almost held his breath for fear of disturbing the interaction.

The moment the two magics touched, Harry was knocked flat onto his back by the eruption and magnitude of the magic rushing through and around him. His eyes flew open to a blinding illumination of flaring colors from the ward stones. Try as he might, he could not close his eyes. He later realized, after his initial moment of panic had passed, that he felt no pain from the flare.

A growing discomfort within his magical core caught his attention. His core struggled to accommodate, capture and refine the magic to be like his own. That was probably what his ancestor had done, Harry considered absently.

The discomfort quickly turned into a straining pain. The level of power pulsing through him - it was simply too much for him or his magic to tame, let alone channel. Harry quickly tried to redirect the power to the ward stone for Potter Manor. He gave a small sigh of relief as the pressure on his magical core lessened briefly.

Much like with a bucking hippogriff, the wild magic threw off his weak reins. Harry lost control of the wild magic and felt the searing pain building up again. His mouth opened in, what he believed to be, a silent scream.

He convulsed erratically as the raging magic seemed to direct its ire toward him for trying and failing to subdue it.

 _This level of sentience and pain had_ not _been described by Leopold Potter,_ Harry thought. In his ancestor's recollections, he mentioned a brief merging of enormous magics, not that the magical mediator would be harmed by the wild magic.

 _Leopold had also had years of practice with geomagic_ , Harry was quick to remind himself. He had been suspected of being an Earth Elemental, one of the five highest calibers of specialized sorcery.

His heart raced and the convulsions forced him to thrash slightly on the stone platform. Harry made a split-second decision. He took a gasping breath, and let go of the magic.

He had learned his lesson.

He simply would not be able to tame the wild magic inundating him from the two ley lines. He pulled back his magic and let the wild magic charge around and through him. He noticed an almost instantaneous change in the behavior of the wild magic.

It seemed also as if it were _excited_ now. It was almost playful as it interacted with his core and his magic. Harry could feel himself smiling even as his eyes watered from being held open for too long.

On a whim, Harry called on his Family Magik to join in, and it did so quickly. The three magics mingled like three sister lionesses who had been separated for years. They mingled, clashed, embraced and played with each other.

Without warning, Harry felt the wild magic withdraw. He was able to blink his eyes and move slightly. Just as he made to get up, a power many times greater than the wild magic surged through him. His world exploded in a plethora of positive sensations.

The overwhelming magic did not hurt, neither was it completely comfortable and comforting. Harry's back arched on the platform. His magic and the Family Magik attempted to protect him by pushing back the flood of magic. His magical core strained once more.

"Be not afraid, childe. Embrace me." An ageless, genderless, yet caring and a motherly voice said softly from all around and _inside_ of him. It carried with it a limitless power.

After a few long moments of hesitation, Harry stopped working against the magic, took a deep breath - he _hadn't_ come this far just to stop - and accepted it. His world promptly exploded into a myriad of sensations and colors. His magic and Family Magik rejoiced within and around him. Both seemed to sing within his expanding core.

He wouldn't have traded the orgasmic feeling for anything in the world in that moment.

"My Blessings are yours." Harry wasn't sure if he was too out of it or if the voice actually spoke to him, but he moaned out loud as the sensations intensified once more.

After what seemed like an eternity of bliss, the magic receded. Harry could still feel it lingering in his core and around his body, but its magnitude had lessened.

He took a few moments to catch his breath. He felt energized like never before. He could wrestle a bear with his bare hands if he wanted to. Even the pain in his toe, from stubbing it that morning, was gone. He opened his eyes to a room so bright that he was forced to quickly close his eyes.

He quickly transfigured his simple glasses into sunglasses - wandlessly, he later noted - and opened his eyes once more. His jaw dropped.

Each of the many pillars surrounding him was glowing spectacularly. They shone in unison with three blithesome swirls of light.

Harry stood up quickly and took in the room. He could feel the presence of his magic, Family Magik, and the original wild magic filling the room. They had merged.

 _Maybe this is what Leopold meant by 'amalgamation'? It was definitely… unexpected._

For once, he was happy with the odd magical phenomena that always seemed to happen to him. He now found himself able to assess and access each ward at _each_ Potter property on a whim. The strength of many wards had increased tenfold, some even more. Many practically hummed with power.

 _'The wonders of magic' as FC would say._

His connection to each of the wards was so intimate that Harry knew he had somehow managed to imbue his own power into all Potter wards. He could sense that the rodent removal charm on the house in France was failing and that there was a log cabin in Canada that no one had visited in over 200 years. He knew that he could have the wards do _whatever_ he wanted them to. He wondered briefly if he could activate the defenses if he was not in the same country, or use them as one would a wand. Both ideas, he decided to test after he had talked to his uncles Milton and FC.

 _This most likely won't stop a dozen dragons, but it should keep them at bay until I can get some help._

He wondered briefly if that was how Madeleine Potter, née Lovegood, had re-warded all Potter properties. Harry hadn't been able to find any entries from her in the Potter Grimoire.

 _She might not have been allowed to create an entry since she wasn't born a Potter._

He left the brightly lit room with a wide smile on his face.

As he made his way through the tunnels that led up to the ground floor, he paused briefly at the entrance to the dungeons, all thoughts on the brief connection to Lady Magic leaving his mind. Henriette normally would have been the first person he told about what he had just experienced. He had a feeling though that the news would only upset her. Taunting her was not his intention.

 _Power hungry she might have been, but she did nothing to deserve disrespectful mocking._ He made his way slowly up through the dungeons to the ground floor.

He was greeted in the entrance hall by over a hundred, silent Potter house elves. Dali and Kali stood in the front of the masses along with the twenty or so head elves of all Potter properties. Harry had a flashback to his first day in the manor where he had bonded with each elf individually. He had gotten to know Dali, Kali and two of the elves in Australia personally since they had accompanied him under the time-bubble.

Their presence reminded him to work on a small elf party for the Yuletide Gathering. He knew that the house elves would not celebrate with the wizards, especially the older and more traditional ones. But maybe he could get them to at least celebrate with each other.

"Master Harry?" Kali spoke out from the front, unsure and more in awe than usual. "Lady Magicness has given you her Blessing. We is pleased to be serving her through you!" He fell to his knees. The other elves quickly followed suit.

Just as Harry began to tell the elves to rise, he saw one very familiar elf without a typical Potter crest. "Dobby? Is that you?"

Dobby's ears wagged while kneeling with the others. "Master Harry remembers lowly Dobby?!"

Harry shared a meaningful look with Kali. _Was Dobby the elf he was referring to yesterday? How on Earth did they even get acquainted?_

"Of course I remember you. How could I ever forget how you tried to save my life?" It took all of his self-control to not emphasize the word "tried". He remembered all too well Dobby's violent attempts to keep him out of harm's way during his second year at Hogwarts.

The other elves looked at Dobby in complete and utter adoration. Harry could tell that Dobby would soon be a hero amongst the other elves. Dobby went red at the glorification. Harry almost laughed at the amusing, giddy twitching of Dobby's ears.

"Kali, please instruct my friend Dobby in the ways of the Potter elves and bring him to me when you believe him ready." Kali nodded seriously, and Dobby appeared to have a heart attack after being called Harry's "friend".

He quickly ordered all of the other elves to rise and sent them back to their duties. They seemed more than excited to receive new orders from him. The marble floors of the grandiose entry hall seemed to shine even more than usual, and the lights burned livelier.

 _I wonder what else has changed since I… amalgamated with the wild magic powering the wards._

Just as Harry made his way toward the staircase to go to his study, FC came flying down the staircase.

"I don't know what you did, but the floo has been burning non-stop. Potters all over the world are registering changes in their house wards." FC said with his wand out, casting a complementary diagnostic spell at Harry. "Your mag levels are absolutely off the charts, and the house feels like it's about to explode with power!"

The man sounded so excited that Harry could only laugh his way through an explanation of what happened to him in the wardroom.

FC only shook his head in disbelief.

"Only you. Really! Only you could have something like this happen. Only you would get Lady Magic's blessings while trying to strengthen house wards." Harry agreed completely, having thought the same only minutes ago. "But that's not the only reason I sought you out! Come quickly!"

Harry was then grabbed by the shoulder and all but carried up the stairs.

"We've finally made a breakthrough with the dark mark research." His uncle gushed. "I just received a compiled summary from the Unspeakables here. They might be behind the times, but they do great work."

The man practically shook with excitement. Harry found himself growing more and more excited. The enthusiasm was definitely addicting.

After they reached the library in record time - thanks again to the Merlin-blessed, enchanted stairs, Harry asked his questions.

"What can we do with it? What do we need in order to do it?"

His uncle pulled him over to a table with one single piece of parchment on it.

"What can we do - what _can't_ we do is a better question!" He thrust Harry into a seat and sat across from him. "Our research hit a wall since none of us could speak parseltongue, and we didn't want to use you since Riddle used your blood to get his body. Who knows how the mark would have reacted in your presence. We've remedied that with the assistance of a trained, Indian parselmouth. They provide their services for a pretty steep fee. If you ever need to make some quick money, you should think of doing the same!"

"I would rather not sell my abilities," Harry said with a laugh.

"I prefer to call it, utilizing your resources to get more resources," FC said with a grin and a shrug.

He pushed the paper towards Harry who read the offered parchment with gusto.

 _'Tests on six subjects over the age of twenty confirm an unimaginable reaction to -' blablabla… Ah, here we go! 'Proper access to the mark allows for following: summoning, inflicting various amounts of pain, draining magic...'! This is amazing… We could do so much more than we imagined to the Death Eaters._

He turned slowly to his uncle with a dropped jaw as he reached the final points on the page, able to ' _murder of more weak-minded servants_ '. "If this…" He cleared his throat. "If this is true…"

FC summoned a bottle of Firewhiskey and two glasses. "... we can disable his entire army without the wards we put up in the Ministry and St. Mungo's."

"Did you figure out how the Death Eaters got into St. Mungo's?" Harry asked spontaneously. The attack had been on his mind a lot lately.

FC nodded. "We assume that one or more members of the hospital staff could be Riddle's minion. We believed that they found a way around the wards by confounding one of the warders into believing they had successfully and securely warded a section of the entrance."

"It could only have been the healer on duty or the welcome witch. They were the only staff members I saw." Harry said.

FC nodded. Harry took that to mean he would look into those suspects.

Harry sat back in his chair with the parchment in his hands. The prospects were good - great even. _Could it really be this simple to end this war?_

"What about snakeface? Can we get him too with this information?"

FC shook his head. "We decided not to probe too deeply lest _he_ noticed it. We cannot create or destroy the mark since it is connected to Riddle's magic and life force. But we can replicate it and isolate it to keep it from killing someone or draining them of magic." He poured two glasses. "Oh, and two of my colleagues believe they might have found the soul piece in the school. Only the one in Gringotts will be left."

Harry was astonished. "How…"

FC gave a deep laugh as he offered Harry a glass of the fiery red liquid. "When we… removed you from the Hospital Wing," his voice suddenly solemn, "two of us stayed to scout out the area. Using Riddle's signature from the soul fragment that used to be in your head, we were able to locate and disable three curses linked to him and the horcrux. Apparently, the soul piece is located in a secret room on the seventh floor of the school. We will need you to grab it, Lord Gryffindor."

Harry merely nodded his head, catching on to what they needed him to do. _How did Dumbledore never notice the magic of the horcrux or the curses? Maybe he had..._

He shook those disturbing thoughts out of his head.

"We've also received word that snakeface went to the cave with one of his idiotic servants to grab the locket." FC raised his glass in a toast. Harry quickly returned the gesture. "He was apparently furious when he left."

Harry noticed FC steadying himself as he considered how to deliver the next part.

"Well?" Harry asked after a few, long moments of silence.

FC sighed. "He had Jonas with him." Harry's heart dropped. He hadn't even known that the blond was missing. If he remembered correctly, snakeface had left a terrible potion that had to be drunk in order for the locket to be retrieved. _Oh, Jonas._

For an instant, he felt as if he had been a terrible Lord Potter until FC continued. "Jonas is one of his."

Harry promptly choked on this burning alcohol.

He quickly revisited his interactions with his blond cousin over the past months. He did not doubt FC's intel, and he did not put it past Jonas to do such a thing. The blond had been dodging at least and doing all he could to avoid Harry lately. His loathing was most likely too deep to be satisfied by the financial power Harry had given him.

 _Were his ambitions for the Potter Lordship really that extreme that he would betray his family?_

Harry still saw it as his fault for not noticing. He had yet to use the Family Magik to ascertain the loyalty of any of his cousins. He thought it excessive and had worried that it would be seen by all to be a sign of his distrust. _Maybe I could have prevented Henriette from going bat-shit crazy from power and Jonas from joining the enemy._

 _I'm too trusting._ And it had almost been his downfall with both Henriette and Jonas. He closed his eyes in pain. _I wonder if this is how Sirius felt when he learned of Wormtail's betrayal or that his brother had joined snakeface._

He knocked back the rest of his drink, not even bothering to shudder as steam puffed from his ears. His mind was connecting dots and making plans at a rapid pace.

FC had waited patiently for at least five minutes and poured them another glass of Odgen's finest before Harry spoke again.

"This is what we are going to do…"

Neither knew explicitly then that they were at a true turning point in the war, but both felt it. What became known as the Firewhiskey Decision would be told to future generations of Potters for centuries to come. It was a lesson in how to be a true Lord Potter, how to masterfully deal simultaneously with enemies inside and outside the Family. It was a lesson in how to change the world.

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* * *

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.

 _Damn him! DAMN HIM!_

Voldemort had crucioed everyone in sight upon his return to his manor.

Even Nagini was avoiding him for fear of catching his ire.

 _Damn Regulus Black to the pits of any and every hell!_ He hoped his death in the cave had been excruciatingly long and painful.

His excessive use of Dark Magik left him light-headed and weaker than he had been since his resurrection. He threw everyone from his throne room and collapsed into his throne, furious and exhausted.

It was simply not possible. _How did Black find out about my horcruxes?_! He knew it was a silly and rhetorical question. The Blacks had delved into the darkest of dark arts. They were bound to have information on horcruxes in their libraries. It was one reason why he trusted their family with three of his treasures. Any other family would have been disgusted with, too intrigued or frightened by the aura of death magic.

He had merely misplaced his trust in the young Black heir.

After the devastating revelation in the cave, Voldemort had simply left the blond Potter weakened and crying at the entrance while he went to check his others horcruxes.

 _Gone. Each and every one of them!_

He threw back his head and roared in fury. His destructive magic shaking and upturning everything in its path.

He panted and trembled from head to toe. Magical exhaustion was beginning to set in.

 _First Azkaban, then St. Mungos and now this…_

Many foreign emotions struck the Darkest Lord of the century. Fear, apprehension and other weaknesses he thought he had bested decades ago.

He immediately made his way to his potions lab, sending Death Eaters scrambling to get out of his way. He would have to prepare the potion and ritual for creating another horcrux. He could take no chances. _This horcrux will be tossed into the Channel if need be. Or…_ He glanced at his wand. His wand was the only thing in the world that he treasured and kept on his person at all times.

 _It will do._

He would have Bellatrix retrieve the goblet from Gringotts, and Snape the one in Hogwarts, and place them with Nagini under Fidelius.

Maybe he would join Bellatrix. He was sure that his horcruxes had yet to be destroyed. Maybe they were floating around on the black market somewhere. Snape mentioned how Sirius Black had thrown out all of the dark objects from his family house and that Mundungus Fletcher had stolen quite a few things to sell. The blood traitor Black would not have known what the treasures were, neither from knowledge nor from his estranged brother.

 _Maybe I can locate them with the right financial incentive in the right places…_ He would need to withdraw from the Slytherin vault.

Yes. He would join Bellatrix. He would have a few of the dragons currently hidden in his underground hall with him just in case the Goblins caused problems with Hufflepuff's goblet.

 _No, I don't want to reveal them to the world yet. They will be for my taking over the Ministry and getting the forsaken prophecy. Bella and I can handle the Goblins on our own. The cup will have to do for my regeneration,_ he thought, re-planning quickly. He would need to make his seventh, backup horcrux now and prepare for the ritual to absorb the one in the cup.

He didn't mind looking fifty years younger. It was the loss of the many rituals he had undergone afterward to his body that annoyed him the most - and the fear that his horcruxes had been discovered and destroyed by the traitor Black.

 _This is not the end_ , he promised himself just as he had done when he sent Bellatrix to Romania a few days prior. _It is merely an obstacle before the beginning._

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* * *

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Henriette sat in meditation in the dark and dreary dungeon, not knowing that her cousin was doing the same a few yards beneath her in the wardroom to prepare for his mission. She had eaten the meals she was given, relieved herself in the bucket that was caringly provided, and carried herself with the dignity of a lady imprisoned in her own castle.

Inside, she was a broken woman. She, like Harry, was two years mentally and physically older due to their time under the time-bubble. They were both youthful and robust. It was almost unnatural for her to feel like her life was over. Yet, she did. Her internal turmoil was overwhelming.

 _I feel like a beaten, old spinster._

Ever since her former, personal elf, Dali, unceremoniously dropped her on the floor of the cell she currently inhabited without a wand or a change of clothes, she had found herself meditating more and more. Only her dark thoughts and regrets kept her company.

She no longer felt the nurturing warmth of the Family Magik in the Manor. Where that warmth once was, an empty cold ache filled its place. She had felt _something_ ... something overwhelmingly powerful, a few meals ago - meals now being her only way of telling how much time was passing with no sun, watch or wand to help her - but she had felt nothing since. Her sense of time had long since departed.

She had not expected Henry to react so _strongly_ to her actions and plans. He surprised her with his punishment, his besmirching and all but disownment. She had expected clemency, having never known him to be so cold and judicious.

She had truly expected Harry to fold and visit her within a few hours.

He had not.

It was only after her eighth meal that she received any contact from the world beyond her cell. Henry's note, which she had received a meal ago, lay crumbled on the small nightstand by her rather simple bed and similar wash area.

The note from Henry had been brief, but that was not a surprise. He had always been of few words. She recalled a time she had complained about that to her mother under the time-bubble.

 _"That's just how most wizards are." Her mother had said in total commiseration. "Your father - Merlin bless his soul - was the same. Broody, emotionally disoriented and a man of few words, but he had a caring heart of gold and more redeeming qualities than I could count. I imagine that is how Lord Henry will be with you." She gave a small smile and bid Henriette good night._

Henriette scoffed. _Unfortunately, she was only half right. Henry will be all of those things, just not with_ me.

Henry's biting words about never marrying her had been her main tormentor. The thought of marrying her cousin wasn't as revolting for her as it apparently was to him. She had to remind herself that he had had a completely different upbringing than she. Incest encompassed many more degrees of familiarity among the non-mags than among wizards. Still, she and Henry would have most likely been able to marry within the non-mag world as well.

 _This is all because of that… that Granger girl!_

She knew that Henry was still pining after his bushy-haired friend. He wanted to marry _her, for whatever reason_.

And as punishment for her ambitious actions, Henriette was being forced to marry Henry's rival, the son of the man who had tried to kill him.

His note was very clear. She had re-read the piece of paper many times just to make sure she had not missed anything, nearly committing it to memory. She was being used as a bartering tool.

 _Henriette Marie_ , the note read. _It was truly hard for me to make the decision I have. You know how much I hate the Pureblood Ways. Lord Malfoy has asked for your hand in marriage. In order to resolve all debts incurred between our Houses, to give you the opportunity to be the Lady of a House - which was your wish, and to stymie any and all future schemes from House Malfoy, I acquiesced. You will be the Potter eyes in the Malfoy household. Your bride price will be triple the highest ever recorded and will be stored in a trust fund for only you and your children to access. I will also ask your opinion of the marriage contract being drawn up by our lawyers. Your security and health will be my utmost concern before signing anything._

So it ended, abrupt, cold and inconsiderate of her feelings and wishes.

 _And Henry swears he hates the Pureblood Ways!_ Henriette gave a loud, scornful laugh. That was the epitome of a pureblood decision.

Henriette figured that she would be _released_ when it was time to commence her courting with Lord Malfoy, a man she had never met.

She had cried and tantrumed once the news set in, but now, a meal later, she could see the benefits. She was a bred and trained Lady of the highest pedigree. She had an intimate connection to her Family Magik. She would most likely not be happy with the man, but she would make the most of the situation, of his social standing, circles, etc.

 _She_ would be the first _ever_ Lady Malfoy, née Potter. She would bring a disgraced House to the top of the social echelon! And _she_ would go down in history for her actions.

 _I will make Henry regret trying to push me away like a wayward child. No matter if it takes me years or decades, I will show him and his first gen. floozy who the better Lady Potter is!_

She reclined on her hard mattress with a grim smirk. She would show him.

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* * *

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.

Harry sat in his study with Snape, Sirius, Remus, Bill Weasley, and his uncles FC, Milton, and Orville. He had spent the entire evening going back and forth with FC on their plans before he retired to the wardroom to meditate some more.

He and FC had come up with a rather extensive plan to crush Voldemort and his Death Eaters for good. Harry was introducing it to the men who would help him carry it out.

"That's a lot to accomplish..." Sirius groaned, his eyes contradicting his tone with their sharpness.

Snape rolled his eyes. "Yet, it is quite feasible. _This_ is the plan I was waiting for… Lord Potter." He gave Harry a respectful nod.

 _That's it. The world must be ending._ Harry returned the nod, hiding his surprise well.

"It's _feasible_ since your wand most likely won't be in the battle with ours!" Sirius snarked. A small bickering match ensued that had everyone shaking their heads. If it weren't for the fact that the two men were declared enemies, Harry would assume that they were already married.

Their spats seemed to be getting more and more superficial and half-hearted, almost as if they just wanted to see who could top the other in a verbal sparring. This was the third spat they had since they arrived just over two hours ago. Harry was now absolutely sure that there was some pent-up sexual tension there. And from the way Bill was glaring at the Potions Master, Harry could sense a storm of drama building up on the horizon.

 _Merlin forbid! A Black, his sworn enemy, and a Weasley - thrown in for kicks and giggles - get swept up in a love triangle._ Harry was quite sure the world was not ready for such a show.

"I've already told you, Black. The Dark Lord is weakened now." Snape spat. "His creation of another horcrux has left his magic so unstable that he can't even punish his lower ranking Death Eaters anymore. He lets Bellatrix _play_ with them." Everyone shuddered at what the deranged woman could even consider to be "playing". "Since the failed attack on St. Mungos, he has been getting more and more desperate. The time to act is now!"

Harry completely agreed with Snape.

His respect for his potions professor had skyrocketed over the past two hours. Apparently, news of Voldie's rage and tantrums had made its rounds amongst his servants. Once Voldemort sent for Snape and ordered him to receive a "special artifact" from the Room of Requirements, Snape had wisely put two and two together and assumed snakeface had discovered his horcruxes to be missing and wanted to secure the remaining ones.

Snape quickly grabbed the horcrux from the nearly emptied school and rushed to Potter Manor before anyone could stop or question him - anyone being Dumbledore. FC lit up like a baby when he was presented with the trinket. Harry still wasn't sure if he was happy to hold such a fabled piece of history or if he was just ecstatic to have another horcrux.

"So, _snakeface_ \- as Harry loves to call him - has the snake, a new horcrux and will try to get the chalice as soon as he's well." Remus summarized. "Who's to say he won't just send Lestrange to retrieve it?"

That sent a pause through the group. It was of course in Bellatrix's vault. Voldemort couldn't grab it alone even if he wanted to.

Harry thought furiously for a moment. _The only way to get Voldemort to go himself is to make him either worried about the cup or angry enough to get information from the Goblins about…_

He slapped his hand to his head. "I'm a _bloody_ idiot!"

Sirius stepped on Snape's foot as the man's mouth opened happily to respond to - and most likely agree with - Harry's self-deprecating comment. To everyone's surprise, Snape actually did go silent and did not retaliate. Remus looked on in shock, and Bill observed in fury.

Harry ignored the weird scene playing out in front of him. He turned to Milton and Sirius.

"If someone breaks a marriage contract, it is considered null and void." He stated to his Uncle Milton who nodded slowly in agreement. His knowledge of the law, especially regarding the Olde Ways worldwide, was well-regarded.

"For most Families, there is a clause or two dedicated to this. It was made standard procedure after the eighteen hundreds." His uncle supplied.

"And if, in the Black Family, this happens, the Black member's property and monies are returned to the Family vault?" He asked Sirius.

That was also the standard procedure in the Potter Family when they still used marriage contracts. Sirius was pensive for a moment before also nodding. The Blacks did the same.

Harry made a mental note to delve into the Black Ways as soon as he had a free moment.

FC's eyes widened before he too slapped himself on the head.

Harry blew out an exasperated breath. _Why didn't we think of this before?_

"Sirius, go to Gringotts and declare the Lestrange marriage to Bellatrix null and void. FC is 100% sure that the cup was placed in the vault by her. So-."

"The cup will be sent to the Black Family vault. Got it! You're coming with me, brainy. I'm sure you can find a loophole faster than I can!" Sirius said grabbing Milton by the shoulder and all but dragging the man from the room. It was definitely amusing to see the stiff Milton adhering to the child-like Sirius.

"Remus, could you and Orville write an article on the Potters inheriting the Slytherin Heirship and vaults? I'll submit it in my name, to ensure that snakeface goes to the bank to get that straightened out and to pick up the cup with Bellatrix."

"That is a sound plan. It will definitely drive the Dark Lord out of his manor." Snape said slowly. "What does that do for us? We will already have the cup in our possession. Such an action would only serve to anger him."

Harry smiled.

Snape's eyes widened in approval. "You wan-. The Goblins-." The man looked at FC in shock. "He's _serious_?"

"No, I believe Sirius just left." FC deadpanned. Harry coughed to hide his snicker. "But, Potions Master Snape-Prince does have a point." Harry never understood why FC felt the need to call Snape that. Snape almost always winced and glared at the man. "Why spend so much time and effort on this? We need to get to Slytherin's Chambers and harvest the basilisk remains there, get the Dragons from under Riddle's control and-"

"-and rescue my _brother_!" Bill interjected. "Nothing I've heard so far - and I have been unnaturally patient - has even touched on rescuing Charlie!"

Harry nodded. "We will do all of that. We are still missing two people. When they are here, we will discuss the rescue bit."

"No. We will discuss and do something now!" The redhead exploded. "Dumbledore would have-."

"Do I look like Albus FUCKING Dumbledore?" Harry growled, his magic whipping around him as he merely stared Bill down. "And what is _Dumbledore's_ plan for rescuing Charlie?"

Bill's face reddened as he sat down. His silence was enough of an answer for the room. Remus and Snape had already informed him that the Order had met immediately after the attack on St. Mungos to squabble about everything and decided to do nothing. _As usual_. The Dragons were a concern for Dumbledore, but he had nothing in his arsenal to battle so many of them.

"We can't rescue Charlie until snakeface and Bellatrix are not in the manor. Regardless of how vulnerable we think he is, snakeface still just managed to do the impossible and unknowingly create an _eighth_ horcrux while under a magic-inhibiting spell! His magical reserves are either completely depleted or his power levels are beyond what we assumed. If you want to go off on some harebrained rescue mission under the slight chance that he can't hurt you, feel free, but you will go alone! You will not get any of us killed. Or you wait and let us plan like adults..." The loudmouth gave him a rather rude glare but shut up nonetheless.

"Remus, Uncle Orville-," Harry said turning back to them.

"Already going." Remus declared, sharing a look with Orville before they left, speaking in hurried whispers as they did.

After a few moments, Harry sealed the room and spoke openly to FC, Snape, and Bill.

"Sorry about that, Bill. Unfortunately, we couldn't speak about the attack on snakeface's manor with Jonas' father still in the room."

Bill looked confused but kept quiet. Harry realized his magic was still pulsing angrily through the room and quickly retracted it.

"Jonas Potter is a traitor to my family. He is one of snakeface's servants now." Harry explained coldly.

Snape sighed suddenly. Harry eyed the man curiously. _Ah, a Fidelius Charm most likely_. It would not surprise Harry if snakeface had placed the information that Jonas Potter was a Death Eater under some secrecy spell. It was his trump card against the Potters. After uncovering the traitor, Harry had briefly wondered why Snape had not told already informed him. _It's good that I didn't interrogate the man like FC wanted… Who knows what snakeface's curse would have done to him._

"We will use Jonas' magical signature to enter the wards unharmed. And one of us will use Professor Snape's." Harry held up a hand to prevent the incoming questions. "Yes, we will and can use Potter spells to copy magical signatures. No, we don't use this for nefarious reasons."

"It's actually a rather uncomfortable thing to do. Your magic fights the foreign signature after a while. I believe it's one of the reasons why magical children usually take on a magical signature similar to that of their mothers. The mother's magical signature usually beats the father's into submission unless the father's magic is very strong. Then it usually means a rather painful pregnancy and…" FC swallowed his next words as everyone stared at him for going off on a tangent. "Well, I never!" He said, turning his nose up at them.

Harry just shook his head and ignored his uncle. _Sometimes, I don't know what to do with him._

"As I said, with the two signatures, Bill and I will enter the manor. FC will have his own secrecy magic to hide his presence." Harry would need his cloak from the Australian Unspeakables to break into Hogwarts with Snape. "We will need to be swift. I will go for the snake, FC the new horcrux, and Bill will find and free his brother. We will meet up here. Get in, do your thing, and get out."

Everyone nodded, and Harry quickly wrote the location of a hidden Potter property down on a scrap of paper. "Bill, tell your brother that there is a Potter Property on an island in Ireland that should be big enough for the dragons. It is under the Fidelius so I've written the secret down for you... And make sure you release all captured prisoners and dragons. FC and I are aiming to destroy the manor after you guys leave." Bill nodded once more, taking the offered paper.

Harry turned to Snape. "Professor, you and I will go render the Basilisk down in the meantime."

"But -." Bill made to interrupt, but FC pointed to this watch. "Huh? Ah, right! Time magic. Sorry, I forgot." The redhead said abashedly.

"When do we depart?" Snape said, looking more excited that Harry had ever seen him.

"We have to wait for Remus and Orville to finish, and for their article to get published. I think it will be tomorrow morning at the latest. I have a few letters to write and a meeting with Minister Longbottom. Let's meet up for breakfast tomorrow morning. I'll let you know if we can make our move earlier." Snape nodded and left.

Harry caught Bill by the shoulder before he could depart as well. He could see the bloodlust, pain and anxiety in the redhead's eyes. "Don't worry. Voldemort wanted your brother and the other Tamers alive. I'm sure he will be fine." Harry reassured persuasively and with ardor. He could see the man's shoulders relax somewhat.

"I hope you're right, Potter." He said and departed from the room.

Harry sighed and immediately got to writing his correspondence, making his floo calls and punctually made it to his appointment with the Minister. He swiftly made his way through the Ministry and made sure to speak to as many people along his way as possible. The more people assured of his goodwill, and the more he talked to on a personal level, the easier it was for him at difficult sessions. _And the easier it will be to push harder policies through_ , as he found out during his meeting with the Minister.

After he informed her of his plans, Minister Longbottom surprisingly did not push for more details. She seemed to expect Harry to succeed with his mission.

"It was foolish of my predecessor to go against you, Lord Potter. You are a politically and magically powerful young man. I do not need to question many of the things you do." She said when he confronted her with her lack of questions. "Young Neville has had nothing but good things to say about your character, and your selfless actions thus far have proven his claims to be true. Your plans have also yet to fail, and I'm counting on this one not to either. Please don't let my hope in you have been misplaced." Completely out of character, she gave Harry a biscuit and a pat on the cheek.

After subtly checking the minister for any forms of mind-controlling, polyjuicing, and other potions, Harry left her office with a lighter heart and yet with a bit more responsibility on his shoulders that he would have preferred.

He quickly checked in on Remus and Orville's progress once he returned to the Manor. Pleased as he was with the results, he still added his own writing to parts of their draft. _If they were lucky, they might just make the evening newspaper_. He left them with instructions to send it off in his name when they were sure it was good.

He managed to relax only when he returned to the wardroom. The wild magic seemed to call out to his own magic to play. Family Magik hovered around him like a middle child waiting to be invited to play with its oldest and youngest siblings. Harry fell into a deep meditation as the magics played, tested and, apparently, strengthened each other.

It felt like only minutes had passed when the Manor wards tapped him to alert him to Sirius and others entering the wards. Indeed, it was already morning. His magic sang to him like a devoted phoenix and the Family Magik seemed to surround like a comforting and protecting mother.

Harry walked into the dining hall where everyone was congregated - and looking a bit peckish - while still connected to the wild magic and the Family Magik. Bill Weasley was the first to respond to the glowing, vibrant-eyed youth. With his line of work, he knew true power when he saw it. He bowed his head respectfully, the others followed suit.

"Lord Potter." Bill greeted in awe.

Snape flashed a genuinely rident smile for the first time in many years. He knew at that moment he had chosen the correct side to fight for.

"Are we ready?" Harry asked. Balmy magic, regardless of origin, hummed around him.

They were.

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* * *

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It was the first time in her young adult life that Hermione would have an autumn breakfast with her parents. They extended their holidays by a few weeks due to her hospitalization over a week ago. Their patients were referred to their closest friend and colleague, Dr. Rollworth. Their dental practice was closed, but their mobile phone had rung often over the past three days she had been home. She had never expected her parents to forward all calls to their voicemail and to put her before their work and research.

She could tell that her parents were happy to spend more time with her. And with Hogwarts being closed indefinitely, her parents used the time to learn what their daughter had truly been up to in the wizarding world. They demanded a detailed play-by-play of her four and a half years at Hogwarts.

 _And I'm finally getting to know the true extent of dad's magical knowledge._

The time they spent together since her premature release was used well in her opinion. Although she exchanged a letter each with Ron, Neville and Harry, she spent more time getting to know her father.

 _Or, as he put it, interrogating him 'to kingdom come!'_

He didn't seem upset with her curiosity. It just seemed to sadden him, talking about his childhood. She had always thought he had been neglected, somewhat like Harry had. Apparently, her suspicions were nearly right.

After the third glass of whiskey last night, Hermione nearly had her father in tears as she began her psychoanalysis of his feelings and memories. She was curious about the Dagworth-Grangers, but she wanted nothing to do with them. It was her belief that a letter from her and her father on how inhumanely the family had treated him and how they wanted nothing to do with the purebloods would allow her father to have the peace of mind he deserved.

She had added her final touches to the letter before she was called down for breakfast.

In their quaint - though rather large for three people - kitchen, her mother was serving eggs, and her father nursed a rather strong-smelling cup of coffee.

"Good morning, dear." Her mother greeted as she took her seat.

Hermione smiled as her father grunted a few words of greeting. _For someone who equates handling liquor with masculinity, he sure turned into a baby after two drinks._

Breakfast was eaten in a comfortable silence.

When the post owls arrived, Hermione paid the newspaper little attention. She expected the letters from Neville and Ron. Harry had told her that he would be busy for the next few days, but that she could expect a visit from him afterward.

"Oh my." Her mother gasped as she read the title page of the _Daily Prophet_. Her father choked on his coffee. Hermione's heart dropped as she put down the letters. What now?

As she attempted to grab the newspaper, her mother slapped her hand and neatly hid the newspaper behind her back.

"Now, now, my little queen! You know the rules. We take turns."

Hermione's eyes narrowed and her hands found her hips. Hugh hid a smile behind his coffee cup. It was always amusing to see the two argue, especially since Hermione took after her mother so much.

"I know a spell to close cavities…" Hermione threatened. She knew how much her parents hated the use of magic to heal dental problems. They flipped a script when they found she had her teeth reduced by Madame Pomfrey last year. She understood now her father's agitation and would never bring up his difficult past with magic by even alluding to such. Her mother was a completely different story. _And she has two cavities._

Her mother paused, deeply stunned. "You wouldn't dare!"

Hermione merely twirled her wand. She had not been able to use magic outside of school before He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named returned. _Voldemort_ , she quickly reminded herself, remembering how much Harry hated the moniker. The rules regarding underage magic had relaxed somewhat since then. As much as she wanted to summon the paper out of her mother's hands, she was sure that the monitors in the Ministry would still register the magic used.

"Mom… _please_." She gestured to the paper. "I just want to make sure everyone is all right!"

Her mother sighed. "Just promise me you will not fly off the handle."

Hermione nodded quickly, stowing away her wand. Her mother handed her the paper and sat down to her breakfast once more.

Expecting another mind-blowing article about He-W- _Voldemort_ like the one from yesterday on him no longer being the Heir of Slytherin, Hermione still could not believe what her eyes read. She read the article aloud in shock.

 ** _Lord Potter Strikes Fear into Riddle_**

 ** _Riddle's Manor destroyed, over 30 Death Eaters killed_**

 _by Penelope Clearwater_

 _At a press conference that began at eight yesterday evening, the Minister's Office and Lord Potter released the details of Lord Potter's latest actions in response to his own kidnapping and the attacks on Hogwarts and St. Mungos._

 _At approximately nine o'clock yesterday morning, Lord Potter and a small team of Ministry-sanctioned forces (possibly the same wizards and witches who partook in the Battle of Azkaban) entered the manor that housed Riddle's forces. Though Lord Potter was tight-lipped about details, he revealed the following:_

 _"My team entered the manor, freed all captives and leveled the building upon departure with no casualties and minimum injuries for our people." Lord Potter himself glowed with pride at the accomplishment and seemed unharmed._

 _The names of the released captives have yet to be released to the public. A list of all fallen Death Eaters can be found on Page 3, confirmed by Goblin representatives of the Heritage Office._

 _"Yes, they are dead. No, I don't care what you miserable mammals do to each other." The spokesgoblin declared._

 _This is interesting; if Goblins are not mammals, how can you have crossbreeds?_

 _The Department of Magical Law Enforcement and the Department of Mysteries are currently reviewing Lord Potter's and his team's memories of the battle. An official statement is expected by this evening. For more information, stay tuned to The Daily Prophet channel of the Wizarding Wireless._

 _Lord Potter considered this attack a necessity._

 _"It was time to go on the offensive. Too many innocents have died while Tom has gone unchecked." Lord Potter declared last night in the Minister's Office. The power of his aura moved all who were present. "No longer will we stand by and allow snakefac- ah Tom and his servants to hurt and kill our innocent loved ones! It's time for us all to take a stand!"_

 _Many Wizengamot members applauded Lord Potter's resolve to remove the stain of Tom Riddle from society and hastened to throw their support behind Lord Potter. Some, like Headmaster Dumbledore, showed more hesitation._

 _"Although I cannot condone the senseless violence young Harry is carrying out, and although his methods leave a more experienced statesman shaking his head, his stance against the Dark forces proves him to be the new Champion of the Light." Headmaster Dumbledore stated after arriving ten minutes late to the press conference, obviously unaware of the attacks. He followed with a particularly harsh comment. "I just hope this blood-thirst for revenge does not lead to unfortunate consequences for Harry's friends and loved ones."_

 _Lord Potter does not share the Headmaster's views._

 _"No, his statement does not surprise me at all, Penny. There is no purely dark or light House. If anything, I am a Champion of Magic and of my Family. Such can be said for any Lord or Lady of a House." Lord Potter scoffed. "Dumbledore represents a way of thinking that, in my opinion, led us to and left us with the situation we've found ourselves in since Grindelwald." (Please note, Penelope Clearwater and Lord Potter attended Hogwarts together for several years. The reporter wants to assure her readers that no disrespect was shown by the use of her first name.)_

 _Such an accusation against a figurehead as Albus Dumbledore would have been unthinkable last year or earlier however many Wizengamot members, public and not so public figures all agree with Lord Potter's assessments. (See pages 7-12 for more information on the discussion on how Headmaster Dumbledore has failed Magical Society and pages 4-5 on the opinions of many prominent witches and wizards to Headmaster Dumbledore's statements)._

 _Lord Potter responded to Headmaster Dumbledore's rather peculiar second statement with a "no comment". Director of the Department of Magical Law, Lady Amelia Bones had no qualms about denouncing the Headmaster's comments as disgraceful and improper._

 _"Such a statement only shows the lack of -."_

Hermione stopped reading, slowly handing the paper off to her father. A very familiar look graced her face.

"Honey…" He warned her. He knew that look much too well.

"Mom?" She said. "If dad decided to run off and destroy some terrorist's hideout. What would you do?"

Her mom sent a defeated look at her father. "Don't hurt him too much, my little queen."

Any objection her father could have had was caught in his throat when her mother gave him a burning look. He swallowed his complaint loudly. He went back to nursing his coffee as if nothing had happened.

Hermione ran to their living room before grabbing the special floo powder that Harry had given her to take her directly to Potter Manor. She found her black-haired friend sitting in his study, facing the fire.

"HARRY JAMES POTTER! WHAT DID YOU DO?"*

Harry turned around, stopping her in her tracks with one look. Tears welled in his red, sleep-deprived eyes and several bottles of butterbeer surrounding him. He wore the same robes that she recognized from the photos on the front page of the Daily Prophet, from the conference he had held just hours before.

"Mione-." He choked out her name. "I killed them. I _killed_ so many… Some-." He gave a small, heart-wrenching sob. "Some, I remember from Hogwarts. Marcus Flint, Boyle, Montagne, Nott… Nott was in our year. And I... I _slaughtered_ them all!"

Harry's sobs overwhelmed his ability to speak. Hermione was momentarily rendered speechless. She had never seen her friend cry before.

"Oh Harry." She simply vanished the bottles and wrapped him up in a shaky hug. All thoughts of giving him a piece of her mind gone. She wasn't sure how long they stayed in that somewhat uncomfortable position, but soon his sobs turned into soft snores. Hermione joined him soon thereafter.

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* * *

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AN: Poor Harry...

In celebration of the holidays and the unbelievable response to this story, I've combined two chapters. I hope you enjoyed it.

So, what do you think happened in snakeface's lair? What do you think will happen to Jonas, Dumbledore and Henriette? They all play a large role in the next two chapters.

*I imagined Hermione saying this with Olivia Pope's voice.

Many, many thanks to **David305** for the awesome help in editing this chapter! You are a blessing!

 **Betaed by** Marc the Unruly


	15. Chapter 15: A Team to Remember

**.**

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 **Chapter Fifteen: A Team to Remember**

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Hermione came to, confused and uncomfortable. There was a light weight on her left side, and she felt rather achy.

She was squeezed with Harry somehow in the large, leather chair in his study. They had both obviously fallen asleep fully clothed in a very awkward and embarrassing position.

She shook the sleep from her head. Harry shifted slightly beneath her, his arms wrapped around her tightly. Her legs draped over his. Their clothes rustled from the sudden friction caused by her movements.

Hermione took a moment to watch her best friend as he slept.

 _He's truly beautiful and peaceful when he sleeps._

His head was tilted back with his wild hair going in all directions, and his mouth was open in a carefree, lopsided grin that made her heart melt. She decided then she could forgive him for his morning breath. The only evidence of his emotional breakdown earlier were the dried tears marring his otherwise angelic face and the lingering smell of butterbeer.

Over the course of their post-breakfast _nap_ , Harry had somehow switched positions with her. Where she had held him until he fell asleep, Harry was now holding her. His arms wrapped protectively around her as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

With her head so close to his, Hermione felt another wave of contentment, mixed with a tinge of emotional discomfort. She had longed for this moment, dreamt of it even. She had wanted to be held by him like this for a long time, but she would have preferred it to be under better conditions and for Harry to be awake.

Feeling her body's protests and the need to relieve herself growing more uncomfortable and pressing by the second, Hermione carefully detached herself from Harry, peeling his arms off of her. Harry groaned softly but moved as she directed.

His watch - _his grandfather's_ , she corrected herself - dangled out from the inside of his robes. She swore under her breath as she saw the time. It was nearly five in the evening.

 _They are going to kill me,_ she sighed at the thought of her parents' reactions to her hours-long disappearance. She didn't even know _why_ she had fallen asleep. She could not remember closing her eyes or feeling drowsy. She had not been tired in any way before she came over to Potter Manor to berate Harry that morning.

"Master Harry's Grangy is awake!" A house-elf exclaimed, popping suddenly into the room and startling Hermione tremendously. "Dobby is pleased to announce that dinner is being finished."

Hermione stumbled and caught herself on the chair. Harry stirred slightly at the sudden noises.

She placed her finger to her lips in a shushing motion. The elf's eyes widened as he noticed that Harry was still sleeping before he - and Hermione was pretty sure the elf was male - nodded his head slowly.

Hermione gestured to the other side of the room and headed that way, the elf quietly following.

She took some parchment from Harry's desk and wrote a brief letter to her parents, informing them that she would be spending the night at Potter Manor. She also invited them to join her at the Manor if they so wished, to keep her father from getting too suspicious.

"Um, Dobby right?" The elf nodded ecstatically as Hermione handed him the note. The name tugged at Hermione's memory, but she let the feeling go after a moment of drawing a blank. "Could you please deliver this to my parents? They live-." The elf was off before she could even finish giving him directions.

Hermione blinked. _Is it possible that elves can locate anyone? He can't really know where I live if I haven't told him… right? Or maybe he read my mind?_

Pondering the still unresearched extent and wonders of Elven magic, Hermione was completely distracted until Dobby returned with a small note from her mother: _Stay safe, we expect you to be at your father's birthday breakfast. Love, mom._

Hermione wondered if this was her mother's way of toying with her. Her father's birthday wasn't for another two days. She wondered what her mother had done to get her father to agree. _Or what she will do..._ Hermione shuddered at the very thought of her mother blackmailing her father with sex.

"Mistress Grangy?" Dobby asked, getting her attention. "Dobby is serving dinner for the family in the dining hall, but Master Harry's Snapey, uncles, goddoggy and Weasel are in the meeting room next to the library. Yous should join them."

Not interested in seeing any of the people who most likely blamed her for Henriette's current excommunication, Hermione immediately liked the idea of eating separately. She was sure that Harry's family placed the blame on her, even though Harry had reassured her that he and his family placed the blame solely on Henriette's shoulders. Hermione had avoided his manor the last few days largely because of her inkling.

Hermione thanked the elf and made her way to bathroom connected to the study to freshen up before she made her way to the meeting room next to Harry's massive library.

When she opened the door to the room, she was taken aback by the lively and cheerful atmosphere there. Joy and celebration were in the air. Hermione was surprised to see Professor Snape amicably interacting with Sirius. Celestina Warbeck was playing loudly in the background.

"Ah, Hermione! When did you get in?" Sirius called out loudly as he spotted her in the doorway.

Hermione shook her head at the red cheeks and the waft of whiskey in the air. _At least they are taking it better than Harry._

"I arrived after breakfast." She said, taking the seat across from Sirius. A plate of food and silverware engraved with the Potter emblem immediately appeared before her. It was as if the elves or Dobby had read her mind. The delicious looking chicken fillet with roasted potatoes and the right amount of sauce were simply mouth-watering.

"Hey! Why didn't that blasted elf serve us that?" Bill asked pointing to his bowl of, what appeared to be, tomato soup.

Dobby appeared with a crack, with his hands on his hips and three chef hats balanced somehow on his head. _They must be held together by magic_ , Hermione assumed.

"Yous get what yous deserves, Mister Weasel," Dobby waved a wooden laden at the redhead, who flushed red with anger at the butchering of his name. Hermione had the feeling that Dobby did not like Bill. "Until Master Harry is here, Dobby serves what Dobby wants. Tomato soups!"

Sirius smiled cautiously at the angry elf, eyeing the dangerous looking, tomato soup-laden wooden spoon it wielded like a blood-coated sword with something akin to fear. "I think what Bill meant to _nicely_ ask is: why does Hermione get the main course before the soup." He gulped slightly as the elf focused his attention on him.

"She is Master Harry's Mistress. She eats what Master Harry would!"

Sirius and Harry's Uncles Milton Arnold and Franklin Cecil shared an odd look, and Hermione blushed to the roots of her bushy hair. Sirius' eyes lit up with a mischievous light that made Hermione regret ever leaving Harry's side.

"I'm here, Dobby." Hermione jumped at the sound of his voice. Harry entered the meeting room with slightly reddened eyes, but there were otherwise no visible signs that he had been bawling just hours before, _or that we just spent the past hours sleeping uncomfortably in a chair_. She wondered briefly if he had used magic to fix his appearance. Her mind ran through a list of cosmetic charms that would have remove bed-hair and puffy eyes.

"Would you be so kind and serve the rest of dinner, please?" Harry asked Dobby kindly.

Dobby gave Bill a small glare and left to carry out Harry's order. Hermione suddenly connected the elf's name to the elf that tried to help Harry in their second year and then once more last year during the Triwizard mess. She wondered briefly how he came to be a Potter house elf.

Harry picked out the seat next to Hermione. He gave her a brief peck on the cheek, not noticing or not caring to notice the amused looks the others sent their way.

"Thank you for being there for me earlier." He whispered in her ear.

Hermione nodded, not trusting her mouth to do anything but chew at the moment.

"So, who managed to upset Dobby?" He asked as the meal was served.

Everyone except Hermione pointed at Bill. Harry sighed as a plate of food slammed down before the redhead, some of its contents spilling over the plate. "Do I even want to know?"

"Nope. Just your usual Weasley temper up against the stubborn loyalty of an abnormally independent Head house elf." Sirius said, taking a huge bite out of a warm roll.

Harry glared at Bill who was picking potatoes off his lap.

"I know, I know! I will apologize to the elf." The redhead said with his hands out. "I just wanted to get you so we could celebrate. He wouldn't even promise to wake you!"

"Nearly twenty minutes of heated discussion." Professor Snape said with just a hint of disdain as he cut into his meal with the precision of a surgeon. "We had to turn on the Wireless just to get some peace."

"What exactly is there to celebrate?" Hermione asked, taking a pause from her meal. It was rather entertaining to watch Harry hold a conversation over a meal. _I don't think he even knows that the entire table focuses on his every word and action._

Everyone gave her an "are you serious" look.

"I mean," she said with a roll of her eyes, "the _Prophet_ was rather tight-lipped about what you all did and promised a reportage tonight, but the Wireless has been playing Celestina Warbeck since I opened the door."

Everyone looked at Harry, as if for permission. He shrugged. "I would have just shown her the memory."

Bill swallowed a mouthful of food and emptied his glass of alcohol. "It all went by quickly, even though it felt like hours for me. I wouldn't even call it a _battle_. The place was filled with new recruits and werewolves."

Harry winced, most likely remembering the young recruits he had known or known of from Hogwarts.

"And no one stopped you?" Hermione was surprised. She grabbed Harry's hand under the table and received a brilliant smile in return.

"Why would they when we _were_ Death Eaters?" Bill asked with a self-satisfied smile.

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 _"Move it or_ lose it _, Potter!" Snape-Bill snarled as Jonas-Harry stumbled through the entrance to the dungeons of snakeface's lair._

 _He could hear FC's snickering over his spitset. They had split up with the invisible FC just moments before on the ground floor._

 _"You are enjoying this way too much,_ Snape _." Harry decided as they quickly made their way deeper into the manor._

 _It had been remarkably easy to infiltrate Riddle's manor. The guards barely looked at them. With Snape's standoffish demeanor, and, due to the fact that no one wanted anything to do with Jonas, they were both avoided and ignored._

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"Jonas?" Hermione blurted out. "Your cousin Jonas?" A dark look grew on Harry's face.

"Don't worry. He was stunned in his bed here the entire time." Milton said coldly, purposely redirecting the conversation in a safer direction.

Bill went on to recount how he located his brother, Charlie, and the other captives. He shivered as he recalled the conditions of the cells and their inmates.

"It was horrible. Some people were so dehydrated and starved that their magic was just barely keeping them alive. And the smell of those who didn't manage to survive…"

He went silent for a moment.

"How many do you think we managed to free?" FC asked after a moment.

Bill paused. "Twenty? Thirty? Definitely a lot."

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 _"There are too many people to break out." He stated to his brother as he cleaned up some of Charlie's smaller wounds. Charlie and the other Dragon Tamers had apparently received preferential treatment. They were the least tortured and the best fed._ Probably since Riddle had big plans for them.

 _Bill quickly reminded himself that Charlie and the other Tamers had only been kidnapped three days ago. Some of the other inmates looked as if they had spent quite a few weeks in the_ _Death Eater's_ care.

 _The noise levels were getting rather high as the released captives rejoiced, cried, asked questions and begged for medical help._

There is no way to get them all out like Harry wanted _, he assessed._

 _Bill gathered the strongest captives and asked them to help him bring everyone into one room._

 _He looked at his watch._ Fuck _._

 _Five minutes had already passed, and they hadn't even gotten to the dragons yet._

 _Remembering the spit_ thing _that Harry had given him to communicate, he tapped it with his wand. "HARRY! CAN YOU HEAR ME?"_

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Harry took over the storytelling with a small laugh, setting his soup to the side. The rest of their soups lay untouched on the table. Hermione barely noticed house elves removing the bowls.

"There I was, hunting Nagini with FC's horcrux detector in one hand and my wand in the other when this idiot screams like a ghoul into the headset."

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BLOODY FUCKING IDIOT! _Harry growled mentally as he dropped FC's detector._

 _The small round glass orb hit the ground with a loud crash, releasing the shard of snakeface's soul that had previously leeched on to Harry's scar. The black wisp gave a small scream as it disappeared off to wherever souls, or parts of souls, go._

 _He closed his eyes in frustration. He could hear the unwanted sound of footsteps hurrying in his direction._

 _"Bill." He said with barely restrained fury into the spitset. "This is a headset. You can speak as if I am standing next to you. AND I'M NOT FUCKING DEAF!"_

 _He heard the redhead yelp in response to his shout over the spitset. "SOR-Sorry." The man whispered now. "I'm not used to this type of… device."_

 _Harry sighed. "I know. What do you want? Because of your moronic screaming, I just dropped and lost my horcrux detector."_

 _"Shite! I'm sorry. I thought-."_

 _"What. Do. You. Want." Harry grit his teeth as his perimeter charms picked up three people less than twenty feet away from him._

 _"Right. There are more captives than we originally assumed. At least twenty more."_

 _"Damn!" Harry said. He saw three recruits nervously checking the corridor. He mentally thanked the Australian Unspeakables for making robes that kept others from hearing the wearer._

 _"Do you think it was the snake?" One asked worriedly looking around the dimly lit corridor._

 _"Who else could it be so close to_ his _chamb-."_

 _Harry quickly stunned the three in quick succession. He had a plan. His stomach churned at the very thought of what he would do, but the chances of it succeeding seemed pretty high._

 _"FC, do you think you can get to Bill? I think we can work that many people into the plan. The dragons will be hard... but as long as everyone gets out on time, I'm happy."_

 _"I have extra portkeys. I'm almost done with the detonators. I have one more floor to go and then I'll be on my way to William. I will come to you when I'm done?"_

 _"No, I have a new plan for getting Nagini. I will portkey out alone once I bring down the wards. Remember, you two, this all has to happen within seconds. Wards down, everyone out, and then detonate."_

 _Harry slowly transfigured two of the young recruits into rats. Human transfiguration was one of the hardest to achieve, and it wasn't taught at Hogwarts until their seventh year for good reason. It was dangerous magic. If done incorrectly, it usually meant painful disfiguration and sometimes even death if vital organs were ruptured or disturbed. For Harry, it was merely a thing of concentration._

.

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Hermione turned to him with wide eyes and a gaping mouth. "But...but-. That's N.E.W.T.s level coursework!"

Harry gave her a lopsided grin. "I promise to help you when McGonagall teaches it to us."

"Your father was very talented in human transfiguration too, you know. He boasted about his O with distinctions on his N.E.W.T.s almost every day, after we received the results." Sirius said. Snape gave a disgusted look and a roll of his eyes. Sirius continued obliviously and proudly. "Animagi usually are, since it takes years of practice with human transfiguration to become an animagus." Here Sirius gave Harry a look full of suspicion which Harry answered with a small smile.

"Why _rats_ , though?" Uncle Milton asked slowly. "Is that some sort of symbolism? 'Servants of the Snake' being turned into its prey?"

Harry laughed at the deep question. "It was something like that." He got up to turn the Wireless down a notch before he took his seat again. "The detector had registered that Nagini was close by, and the Death Eater mentioned that snakeface's chambers were also nearby, so I naturally assumed…"

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.

 _Harry used Legilimency on the young recruit, a Daniel Yaxley - the son of the captured Corban Yaxley, as Harry soon discovered. He had graduated from Hogwarts two years before Harry had arrived, his younger brother, Walton, would be arriving at Hogwarts next year._

What a pity. _Harry thought sorrowfully. If the man wasn't such a murderous bigot, which the glance into his memories proved him to be, Harry would have happily let the man go. Yaxley was in training to be a medi-wizard._

 _He pulled the location to the throne room from the guy's head before he transfigured him into a rat as well._

 _He re-stunned all three of the rodents and made his way to the throne room. He felt himself go through three different identification wards and at least one unfamiliar ward. The Polyjuice and magical signature charms protected him, but he quickened his pace regardless._

 _He took a vial of concentrated Sleeping Draught from his robe pocket and carefully poured it over the three rats, careful to avoid their faces for fear of putting them asleep before Nagini even got to them. He enlarged the men-rodents to roughly the size of small dogs. He closed his eyes and steadied his breathing._

 _NOW!_

 _He threw open the door to the chamber, rennervated the rodents and banished the frightened men-rodents into the room._

 _In the middle of the rather dark and barren room was Voldie's ridiculously ornamented and over-sized throne. Harry shook his head at the obvious posturing. His eyes focused on the enormous and familiar snake that was wrapped around the throne and tracking the movements of the enlarged rodents with the precision of a hungry predator._

 _The three recruits had factored perfectly into his plans. He had originally wanted to conjure rats but had worried about how Nagini would respond. Magical snakes tended to have a sixth sense about conjured versus natural prey. Uncle Milton had drilled that in his head when they discussed the basilisk in his second year under the time-bubble and considered how Harry could have done it differently. Harry had proposed conjuring a rooster and set off a three-hour long discussion about the awareness of magical animals._

 _The transfigured rodents might smell differently to Nagini, but they were and remained live animals - regardless of human or rodent - to her. Harry hoped that her predator instincts kicked in._

 _Luckily he didn't have to wait long. Like lightning, the monstrosity of a snake sprung at and bit one of the men-rodents, wrapped another up in its coils and followed the movements of the third rat with its salivating head. Harry watched the clock of his wristwatch. After twenty or so seconds, and after consuming two of the men-rats, the snake's movements started getting more and more sluggish._

Come on _, he thought._ Come on!

 _Like a tired giant, the snake swayed slowly for a few moments before it finally hit the ground with a heavy sound. Harry swallowed the bile rising in his throat and clamped down his Occulmency shields at the sight of the two large lumps in the snake's body and the mauled man-rodent in its mouth. He closed his eyes in prayer for the three recruits. He sent the most powerful stunner he knew at the sleeping snake, pressed a small voice-activated portkey onto the snake, and quickly scouted the room._

 _"FC, are you on your way to Bill?"_

 _There was a pause on the spitset. "I am just now getting out of the potions labs. You will like what I found here... Riddle should be careful about where he leaves his notes. Maybe he just left in a hurry. Nevertheless, I will be there in less than a minute."_

 _"Okay,_

 _"Bill, how is everything looking on your end?"_

 _"We just bandaged up everyone. Charlie went to take care of the dr-. What? Hold on Charlie, I will come with you."_

 _"Please confirm when all dragons and prisoners are ready for portkeying."_

.

.

"So, next thing I knew, Charlie had thrown me into a room with starving and furious dragons," Bill said as he took a sip of alcohol. Hermione gasped in disbelief.

Hermione was truly impressed with his courage. She suddenly saw Bill in a completely different light. _Maybe as a Curse Breaker, he is used to such life-threatening situations?_ She couldn't imagine facing just one of the beasts, let alone a whole score of them. Her mind flashed back to how frightened she had been for Harry when he faced the Hungarian Horntail last year.

"I held my own while Charlie -."

"Weren't you whimpering in a corner when I arrived?" FC interrupted slowly with a sly wink to Hermione.

Bill sputtered. Harry continued the story while everyone else shared a small chuckle at Bill's expense.

.

.

 _Harry removed his cloak and spent a minute poking around snakeface's throne, finding nothing. He had hoped to find a secret library or some treasure stash like he had with Snape in the Chamber of Secrets earlier that day. FC strongly believed that snakeface was a kleptomaniac due to the items he used for his horcruxes. Harry would have expected snakeface to keep his treasures close to him._

 _As if summoned, and with a series of pops, snakeface and a few of his servants appeared in the throne room. Harry jumped out his skin and immediately ran to find refuge behind the throne. He hesitated a moment and looked from behind the throne._

 _Voldie took a look at his snake and threw Harry a furious and confused look._

 _"Potter! What have you done to Nagini?"_

 _For a moment Harry feared that Voldemort could see through his Jonas disguise, but he scratched that thought with the lack of Killing Curses being thrown his way._

 _"I-I." He made to respond when Voldemort deeply sniffed the air. Harry briefly wondered if the man could pick up scents like an animal._

 _"An imposter!"_ Did he bloody merge with a snake?

 _Spells of all types crashed into the stone throne. Harry's adrenaline hit the roof._

 _"FC, snakeface is in the building! We have to hurry!"_

 _"We need a few moments more, Henry! Distract him the best you can!"_

 _Harry sighed and realized what had to be done._

 _He stood and faced snakeface confidently. "Hi, Tom. Nice accommodation you have here. The welcome leaves a bit to be desired, but I never expected more from the jumped-up son of both a squib and a muggle!"_

 _Before Voldemort or his followers could react, Harry wordlessly summoned the clothes of some of the men and women present as he danced around the throne room. He barely batted an eye as a handful of the Death Eaters intercepted and fell victim to the spells and curses meant for him. Some of the Death Eaters stopped casting altogether, afraid to hit their comrades or get hit themselves._

 _"Henry, bring down the wards!" FC said over the spitset. Harry sighed in relief._

 _Harry pulled a special coin from his pocket and threw it to the ground. As soon as it hit the stone floor, a shockwave of magic knocked everyone to the ground. There was a loud, long cracking sound as if someone or something was ripping the very air around them._

 _Dazed, Harry righted himself just as Voldemort sent a dark curse in his direction. Harry tried to summon another of the snake's followers and realized too late that Voldie had put up a shield around them. Left with no other choice, Harry summoned Nagini into the path of the curse mere moments before it would have hit him in the chest._

 _The sleeping snake exploded in a grotesque spray of blood, partially digested men-rats and flesh. Harry gagged._

 _Voldemort's rage was, even for Harry, impressive. His Death Eaters took a few steps back and waited for orders._

 _"YOU WILL **DIE**!" Snakeface roared. His wand glowed an ominous black and green._

 _A new Death Eater rushed into the room. "My Lord! The wards have been deactivate-." The head of the Death Eater was blasted back, detached from its body, in the direction in which he had come and his body jerked on the ground. Snakeface panted heavily. Harry could tell that he was still suffering from the Potter Family spell._

 _One of the Death Eaters giggled insanely at the gory scene._ Lestrange.

 _"Henry, we are out." FC's voice was like a godsend in the seconds of intermission._

 _His multitasking mind left the battle for a single moment, and that was all chance that snakeface needed. An unknown, black spell clipped Harry in the leg, throwing him to the ground._

 _"FC, detonate now!" He all but yelled in agony over the spitset. He quickly said the trigger word for his portkey as an avalanche of deathly spells headed his way. "BOOM!"_

 _Harry was instantly portkeyed out of the throne room to a hill a few miles away from the manor and watched amazed as it went up in a hellish, blinding ball of flames. He could feel the heat from the roaring inferno even at such a distance._

 _Harry heard surprised and panicked yells from the village nearby. Harry was happy to note that the fire was contained to the proximity of the wards snakeface had erected to keep people from finding his hideaway. FC had told him that the magical fire would only burn things with magic in its proximity, but it was another thing to witness the perfect sphere of fire._ How are they going to explain that to the non-mags, _Harry wondered._

 _He tried to stand up and immediately collapsed in unimaginable pain. Snakeface's spell had done a number on his leg. Skin, muscles, tendons and even blood were slowly blackening and withering. He threw up in the grass as the bones in his thigh slowly became visible._

 _"FC, medic!"_

.

.

"That's our code word for when someone takes a fatal hit in battle," FC added. "I managed to stop the Withering Curse with the assistance of Henry's magic. I am confident it can be healed, but he will most likely walk with a painful limp for rest of his days."

Hermione was pale beyond anything Harry had ever seen before. "It's fine, Mione!" He reassured, giving her a charming smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "It was a small price to pay. I would have happily sacrificed a lot more to put such a dent into snakeface's forces."

"Cheers to that!" Snape lifted his glass in a toast, which Harry and the others returned.

Hermione seemed lost for words. Harry gave her hand a squeeze. He knew that she wasn't sure what to make of the sacrifices each of them was willing to make to ensure that snakeface met his end, and that soon. _But she will have to get used to it at least._

"How many of the bastards did we put down?" Bill said, slurring his words slightly.

Harry gestured to Sirius to remove the bottle of firewhiskey from within the redhead's reach. The last thing they needed was a drunken Weasley in their midst. _Dobby might deal with him like he dealt with Lucius Malfoy or even try to duel the idiot._ Harry giggled mentally at Dobby and Bill going at it in a duel.

"That's a rather cold way of asking how many people _died_." Hermione all but growled. _Or have many people I killed_ , Harry thought with a small pang of remorse. He shook himself mentally. He forced himself to stay strong.

"People die in war," Harry told her simply, his Occulmency keeping his voice steady. "They all chose to serve snakeface, and they paid for it."

"And at what price to your emotional health and stability?" She blurted out. "You can't sit here pretending as if you did not suffer from the fact that you murdered dozens of people!" Murdered or killed?

Harry sighed. He looked to Sirius and Snape for help.

Snape cleared his throat. "Well... Potter and I went to Hogwarts, into the Chamber of Secrets and harvested Salazar's centuries-old basilisk. There was a lot of climbing and exploring involved. We found a hidden room with some ancient parseltongue scrolls that seemed to have been collected by Slytherin over the course of his lifetime." He said as he swirled his drink. "Luckily, Potter went with me into the Chamber before the battle otherwise we would have never found a way out. Or is it more appropriate to say 'pre-simultaneously'?"

There was a moment of complete silence, only voices from the radio in the background were heard, yet ignored.

"'Pre-simultaneous'," Milton tasted the word. "I like it! Cheers to a neologism for Henry being everywhere at once!"

More senseless toasts followed, the ever clever Hermione joined in with some juice towards the end. Harry was happy that she finally caught on to their method of coping with what they did, the lives that they took since they most likely would do so again before Voldemort was gone for good.

Harry decided to call it a night when Sirius somehow managed to start a historical debate on the cause of the Black Plague in the 1300s. The Blacks argued for centuries that the plague which claimed at least one-third of non-magical and more than a few magical lives in the fourteenth century Europe had been started by their ancestor Yersinia Black and was thus named after her and the _Black_ Family. The Blacks swore that Yersinia created the curse in response to her father marrying her off to the invalid squib son of the House of Craven to clear his debts. She was, apparently, one of the Founding Witches of the Dark Witches Coven, and, through her, the Blacks had received a lot of their current infamy.

Snape and Milton nearly fought each other to disprove that family fable. Bill, naturally, supported Sirius. Regardless of Bill's ulterior motives, the Weasleys had also intermarried with the Cravens before the House went extinct in the 1500s. Hermione diversified the conversation with history and biology lessons from her non-magical education. And FC… FC merely threw in ridiculous comments at random in order to confuse everyone.

Suddenly, he heard the Wireless mention something of note in the background. He hurried to turn up the volume.

 _"... if convicted, Headmaster Dumbledore could spend the rest of his natural life in Ministry custody."_

 _"That was Minister Longbottom's official statement, Oliver. Sources within the Ministry tell me that some members of the Wizengamot are pushing for a more extreme punishment. This is Argle Summers reporting from the Atrium of the Ministry of Magic."_

Harry shushed the bickering behind him.

 _"For those of you just now joining us, the office of Minister Longbottom has just confirmed the deaths of 41 Death Eaters at the hands of Lord Potter. With a squad of only two other wizards, Lord Potter launched a rescue and raid attack on the dark wizard Tom Riddle…"_

"Did you hear that?" Harry asked the others, sobering up quickly.

"We already knew about the attack." Bill deadpanned. Harry resisted the urge to pummel the idiot… barely.

"I think Henry is referring to the trial for Dumbledore," FC said coldly. Harry wordlessly vanished the rest of the alcohol and called for sobering potions for the room, much to Sirius' dismay.

The vials appeared on the table moments later. Harry and FC quickly helped themselves to the terrible potion. Before he had even placed the emptied vial back on the table, Dobby popped into the room with an official-looking letter in his hands.

"From the Ministeress, Master Harry."

Harry took the letter and opened it. It confirmed a closed-door, full Wizengamot session tomorrow morning. He read the list of charges Dumbledore would be facing and sat down heavily in his seat next to Hermione. At her questioning look, he simply handed the letter to her.

 _Bloody idiots. The lot of them!_ He was just recovering from a battle and now… He knew he would be entering another - this time on the political battlefield.

Harry closed his eyes as he felt a headache coming. Dobby popped into the room with a headache potion before Harry even voiced his need.

"You are the best, Dobby!" He gushed as his blossoming headache disappeared. Dobby seemed overwhelmed by the praise.

"Harry," Hermione asked as she passed the letter to Snape and Sirius, who read it together, "this is good, right?"

Harry took a sip of water as he gazed at the portrait of his grandfather. Charles Potter gazed back at him and presented Harry his golden cane in the portrait. _He must have read my mind._

"No… We will make it good, though."

.

.

* * *

.

.

Hermione shuddered slightly next to Harry from the stares and whispers. Harry could feel her unease growing even though only a bit of it was visible on her face. Harry couldn't blame her. The room was tense.

No one dared to openly oppose the seating arrangement. Not only had Harry dealt Voldemort a deadly blow two days prior, but his publicity had grown _astronomically_.

Harry had been declared "Henry the Great" and many other _flattering_ names nationally and internationally yesterday. "Harry the Defender of the Weak and Menace of the Malevolent" was his personal _favorite_.

The fact that he had been wounded in the battle had not been noticed or revealed at the press conference since he had been standing still the entire time. So, his entrance into the chambers with a golden cane - many remembered it accurately as that of his grandfather - and with Hermione on his arm and slightly behind, beside him with a supporting hand on his free arm, sent the room into a whisper frenzy.

 _Bloody inbred vultures, the lot of them._

Harry refused to wince or show too much of a limp, although Hermione did have to help him at the end, on the stairs.

Harry nodded briefly to Lady Bones and Neville who usually sat on either side of him. He was just as surprised as Hermione when the room created a chair for her next to Neville. It was the seat of an unconfirmed and non-voting heir with the House emblem of the Dagworth-Grangers on it, as Neville's held a golden emblem for a confirmed, voting heir with the Longbottoms' emblem, two legendary and extinct fire lions. Hermione's seat also did not have the same height or golden crowning of the voting seats.

It was a welcomed surprise. Harry had originally planned to conjure a seat for her, but the room's magical assistance also fit into their plans.

Sirius threw him an encouraging look from across the room. Lady Black was sick with dragon pox, and, as Lord Apparent, Sirius was sitting in for her. Harry was grateful for the additional support.

They had brainstormed and came up with numerous plans and contingencies for the session. It would be tricky, but both Sirius and Hermione had reassured him over breakfast that it was solid. Harry felt confident that they would at least push for Veritaserum for Dumbledore.

 _Let the pureblood games begin._

The buzzing of the Lords and Ladies as they wondered who Hermione was, discussed his injury and Dumbledore's misdeeds ended with the arrival of the Minister and Chief Witch. After that, Harry sat attentively yet internally bored to death as the Chief Witch read the long list of charges. Neglect of a Lord, kidnapping of a Lord, numerous abuse of position as Chief Wizard, numerous abuse of position as Headmaster, etc.

Harry was deeply annoyed.

While he was happy that the old geezer was getting his due and hopeful that he didn't have to put up with the man's scheming anymore, the timing was more than suspicious. It was obvious that the anti-Dumbledore fraction of the Wizengamot had seen an opportunity in Harry's attack on Voldemort's lair and were attempting to seize to remove the man swiftly and completely. As Dumbledore mentioned in the press conference, and despite Harry's clear opposition, many now saw Harry as Dumbledore's natural successor, as the new Lord of the Light.

He shuddered in disgust. _I definitely prefer_ Harry the Defender of the Weak and Menace of the Malevolent _to that._

Hermione gave him a curious look and went back to observing the meeting, possibly more active than anyone else in the room. Harry wanted to roll his eyes, but he knew that it was a once-in-a-lifetime moment for her. He reminded himself that not only was it her first time in the room, but that she was the first ever first-generational witch to sit among the Lords and Ladies of Britain's Wizengamot. Hermione had been disgusted and honored when he told her that even his mother hadn't been allowed to sit among the Wizengamot in his father's stead.

 _No first-gens were allowed in unless they sat in the visitors' gallery or in the Accused Chair._ It had almost become law a few decades ago.

"Bring in the Accused!"

The room held its breath as Dumbledore entered. Harry had expected a broken man or an overly confident sorcerer. What he received was a surprising mixture of the two.

Dumbledore was led into the room, shackled and at wand point, escorted by three Aurors - one of whom, Harry vaguely remembered from an Order meeting. He briefly considered telling Madame Bones and decided to do so before the trial truly began. The possibility of Dumbledore trying to escape was very high. Though he was dressed in dreary grey robes and looked a little hassled, Dumbledore merely appeared to be waiting for tea time and humoring them all with his presence, not facing years of imprisonment. Harry was almost certain now that the man had an escape plan.

 _I wonder if they even captured him or if he voluntarily turned himself in._

He used the parchment and quill provided to all Wizengamot members on the desks before their seats to write a small note to Lady Bones about his suspicions. He murmured her name, tapped the parchment with his wand, and it disappeared from his desk and reappeared on hers with no one noticing but the two of them. That was how silent communication was made in the chamber. It was to keep opponents from knowing who was supporting whom.

He was pleasantly surprised that he had yet to receive any notes today. Usually, there were stacks of at least ten messages on his desk by the time a session started.

 _Maybe they are too busy gossiping._

He heard Lady Bones growl from beside him. She quickly left her seat, and Harry gave Hermione's arm a small squeeze. _It was time._

"Who speaks for the Accused?" Chief Witch Marchbanks asked, as was required.

Harry stood slowly, and a new wave of whispering commenced. "House Potter has a few concerns regarding this trial."

Harry made his descent to the floor with Hermione's assistance. He could see quills furiously scribbling away and some of the members who sat in front of him turned around to get a good view of Hermione's Family emblem. It would be known to all within moments that an unconfirmed Dagworth-Granger Heir was in attendance.

Hermione held herself bravely. Harry was deeply proud of her. He could see Sirius winking at her.

"Lords and Ladies of this esteemed body," he began, soft and strong, "House Potter is grateful for the number of charges presented to this body on its behalf."

His golden cane hit the stone floor with a rhythmic precision that perfectly punctuated the flow of his speech. Dumbledore turned his head to watch Harry with a grandfatherly smile on his face.

"It is merely the _suddenness_ of the trials and the circumstances of the trial that unsettle me. Headmaster Dumbledore is _clearly_ guilty of much wrongdoing, especially against my House personally, but he is _not_ the reason why we should meet."

Lord Nott, the father and grandfather of confirmed Death Eaters, loudly interrupted from his seat.

"I hope your long-winded panegyric can be summarized, Lord Potter."

There was no laughter in the room, and Lord Nott looked rather uncomfortable with the heavy silence and acidic glances in his direction. The days of Death Eaters and their similarly minded families reigning in the chamber had long since ended. Harry's trial at the beginning of the summer had spelled an end to that era.

Harry merely ignored the man. The youngest Heir Nott had been killed in the explosion at Riddle Manor yesterday - according to today's morning edition of the _Daily Prophet_ \- and the elder Heir Nott had been executed in the Death Eater roundup over the summer. He expected the man to be unruly and rude toward him.

"Lord Potter," the Minister began, obviously surprised, "I am surprised by your objection." She cleared her throat. "If not for the innumerable injustices and crimes committed by Headmaster Dumbledore, what other reason could there be for this meeting?"

Harry leaned slightly on his good leg and held his arm out in a placating motion.

"I do not disagree with the goal, Minister. I disagree with methods. If you wish to save a batch of pickled frog eyes, you shouldn't just remove one bad eye…"

He channeled a small bit of magic through his voice. "Headmaster Dumbledore is guilty of all of those things and more. But if we wish to solve the current issues plaguing our great country, a speedy trial is not sufficient. We have to start with the root of the issue!" Harry pointed to the shackled Headmaster.

"Dumbledore is not the cause of all of our problems. He is, like the Tom Riddle, an exploiter of the circumstances this country - _this_ _body_ is guilty of creating and allowing to fester!"

There were loud and none too pleasant arguments being yelled across the chamber at him.

"LOOK AROUND YOURSELVES!" He roared, silencing the lot. "Look at the number of empty seats - the _extinct_ Families - two bloody, destructive and NONSENSICAL wars have extinguished. Over thirty _HOUSES_ have been wiped out in this country. Each family in this country has lost loved ones on one side of the wars or on the other." He made his way closer to the Accused Chair. "It was not Dumbledore or Riddle or even Grindelwald who started these wars. It was pureblooded mania, inbred idiocy and outmoded stereotypes regarding fellow witches and wizards that emptied these humble halls and our Family manors."

"It was you." He spat.

"YOU DARE!" A stout-locking lord - Harry recognized him as the Head of the Greengrasses - bellowed from above. "This is truly unfathomable! Do we have to sit and listen to this hal- this _upstart's_ dribble, Chief Witch?"

Quite a few Lords and Ladies murmured their agreement.

Harry merely laughed.

"You were going to say "Half-blood", Lord Greengrass?" The male paled slightly but stood his ground. "Please, speak your mind. _This_ half-blood would happily show you why Riddle shouts in fury whenever he hears my very _name_." The fat man shuddered visibly and sat down. Harry turned to the rest of the Lords and Ladies. "As you all clearly heard, it is not Dumbledore or Riddle's faults for our damaged society. They do not hold you at wand point and tell you to believe magical power or prowess is measured in generations of incestuous relations!"

Harry took a moment to catch himself. Sirius threw him a warning look from his seat. It was not their goal to insult the genealogy of those present. _Especially since the Potters practiced similar traditions for centuries._

" _Look around you!_ " He begged. His voice took on an emotional tinge. "How many half-bloods, how many first generational witches and wizards are seated among you? _None!_ "

"And why should they be?" Lady Abbot interjected softly and curiously, leaning forward to address the body clearly. "They come into our world with no knowledge. They do not even attempt to learn our ways before they criticize our millennia-strong society, trying to change it into their own flawed world. Our traditions and ways were created and observed to embrace and celebrate the magic we were honored with."

Her small speech received a brief but resounding standing ovation.

"I agree, milady." He said to her and the rest of the aristocrats after the applause died down. "I agree completely and utterly. This leads me back to my point. There is a deep-seated conflict at the heart of our society that is not fixed with by defanging one or two heads of the hydra."

"There is a muggle-born Heiress and a half-blood Lord among us!" He declared. There were shouts of disbelief and some negative sentiments. "And both of them could wipe the floor with most of you!" He yelled above them.

There was uproar. Harry could see Hermione becoming more and more distressed by the abuse raining down on them. _Hold in there a little longer, love..._ **_Love_** _?_ _Where did that come from?_

He violently shook away those thoughts. It was neither the time nor the place for them.

"But we are not here-." He channeled more magic and a mild Sonorus charm to his voice. " **We are not here** to measure wands or magical levels. _We_ -," he pointed to himself and Hermione, "represent a fundamental issue with our society that starts in this very chamber, is used and perpetuated by Dumbledore and Riddle, and has spread like an epidemic through our society."

"I, the orphaned, half-blood Lord and Heir to multiple Houses, did not _know_ how to behave in our society. I was left floundering," he threw a furious look at the indifferent-looking Dumbledore, "and purposefully ignorant. My first actual introduction to the Heir of another House was a shameful and horrendous mishap - to which Lord Draco Malfoy can attest - and it led to years of unnecessary rivalry and ultimately to unnecessary bloodshed." Harry placed a fist over his heart and bowed to the blond as an apologetic equal.

The chamber was silent once more. The surprise that flickered across the blonde's face was gone before the rest of the chamber turned to him in shock. Malfoy nodded regally in return. They both knew what Harry said to be completely fabricated. Their introduction in the train had been preceded by their encounter in Madame Malkins' shop, and Lucius Malfoy's death had absolutely nothing to do with his rivalry with Draco Malfoy. Harry was keeping his promise to Malfoy. He just hoped the blonde understood.

This was Malfoy's chance to throw off the shroud of negativity currently shrouding his Family's name.

"It was not only his introduction, Lord Potter lacked in the knowledge of all manners and matters befitting someone of his station. It was an atrocity. An outrage!"

Harry nodded his agreement and thanks. His words were given a bit more weight with the support of a centuries-pure Lord. Hermione had suggested that he might want to distance himself from Malfoy during this session and use Sirius instead. Harry had decided against it. Sirius' connection to House Potter was well-known and would be expected. He also knew that Malfoy wouldn't object to anything he proposed. Hermione still saw Malfoy as the foul-mouthed teen, but Harry knew the blonde was thinking like the Lord of his House. _Just as I would._

"It was assumed, Lady Abbot, my fellow Lords and Ladies, that I knew _something_. When I dressed, acted, or reacted in ways not 'befitting' someone of my station, of someone wishing to be a part of this world as Lady Abbot states, it was believed that I was being deliberately rude, self-alienating, rebellious, spiteful, etc. I simply was not educated, informed, or aware. Yet, you react to _our lack of knowledge_ with hatred and ostracizing."

The silence was impressive. Harry loved it.

"We - half-bloods and first generational witches and wizards - are not adequately informed. There are no books on Family Magik or Ways. Most Families wisely pass this information on directly to their children, yet there is no one to teach _us_. We are not taught at Hogwarts - Dumbledore has violently protested an Introduction to Magical Culture course, providing the proper literature, updating the History of Magic curriculum, and other means to assimilate the unfortunate and ignorant entrants to our society."

He injected more magic into his voice. He could feel the strain on his vocal chords, but he knew he had to push forward. "Our society is hemorrhaging! Entrant classes at Hogwarts are seventy to ninety percent first generational and half-blooded witches and wizards. Yet, almost _all_ of them leave our society for more welcoming and prepared societies on the continent and in the USA. We lose numerous potential healers, Aurors, store managers, inventors, professors, creative minds, even _Heirs and Family Heads_ every year as they find themselves confronted with a society that ignores, misunderstands and viciously SPURNS them!"

He released the magic, and the room breathed a bit more easily. Several looked thoughtful, considering his accusations.

"Riddle was aware of this, having lived these circumstances himself as a half-blooded Heir of Slytherin. Dumbledore actively supported this system because it left him able to favor a few and seem the Light Lord savior to the rest. He, just like his dark counterpart, recruits actively from those blind enough to not see beyond their own hate." He saw a flicker of worry in the old man's eyes. _Yes, we got him._ "And I'm sure his trial will reveal that and much more."

"Our society cannot take much more," Harry said in all but a whisper. "Do you not feel Magik crying out as we kill one another, as we reject and abandon many of our own? Do you not feel her turmoil as so many of our youth leave our shores for better futures elsewhere?"

Harry made his way to Hermione.

"This young Lady is my best friend, Hermione Granger. Her father was a potions prodigy at the age of eight. He was the Heir of the Dagworth-Granger legacy. He is also a squib. He was booted into the non-magical world where he sired the beautiful and intelligent woman beside me." There was little response to this declaration most likely since most of the Families did the same with squibs. "She is the top of her class and already considered the greatest witch of our generation."

"This chamber immediately recognized her as the Heir of the Dagworth-Grangers," and he gestured to her chair, "yet many of your children, grandchildren even, call her a 'mudblood' to her face or behind her back." Lady Abbot looked at Hermione with shock and tears in her eyes as if she would storm down and wrap the girl in her arms. Harry made a mental note to look up her history. He had a feeling that the Lady Abbot was somehow related to the Dagworth-Grangers.

He signaled to Hermione through applied pressure on her arm that he was done and that they could make their way up the stairs. "So, tell me who is correct: the unfounded bias and hatred you pass along to your progeny, or Lady Magik herself?"

"So, no, Chief Witch Marchbanks and Minister Longbottom, I do not believe the trial of the old man before us should be the main focus of our session. We need to look at the academic and emigration statistics, consider our laws where need be, look at the failures within our educational institution and then -" he paused dramatically as he reached his seat. "- and only then, can we be assured that the destruction of our society, perpetuated by Dumbledore and Riddle, is stopped and remedied. Anything less would an insult to the very values we are sworn to uphold."

Chief Witch Marchbanks' eyes lit up with a fire Harry had never seen in them before. It was she who suggested to Harry a few months prior that a sweeping change needed to occur, starting with the laws and education otherwise Magical England would be no more in a few decades. Harry vividly remembered a stack of parchment in her office that she had referred to as her "Plan B Pile" for overhauling the education system. Harry knew that if she brought it out that they would have a rather long session before them.

He sat down in his seat and Hermione in hers. "I call for a revision to the agenda for this session. Let us tackle the issues of our society, do our duty to Lady Magik-." He gave Dumbledore a scorching look. "-and then pump this cretin so full of Veritaserum that he sings like a drunken siren!"

"HEAR HEAR!" Malfoy shouted, beginning the avalanche of support that broke through the silencing wards of the chamber.

Hermione leaned over to Harry after the Chief Witch restored order and called for a vote on Harry's suggestion. It was a quick landslide vote in support of Harry's proposal. No one could come up with a similarly powerful counter-argument. And no one had to popularity to go against - or wanted to be seen as going against - Harry, an education reform, or against the will of Magik herself.

"You were spectacular!" She gushed. "It was so… electrifying. It is always like this?"

Harry grabbed her hand and chuckled as he drank a sip of water from a flask. "No, I rarely speak. It is not important to speak at every full meeting. It's a… quality over quantity thing. I think we are all more active in smaller sessions." He thought about telling her that more was usually accomplished in smaller sessions since there was usually less grandstanding and politicizing, but he was distracted by crescendoing, booming laughs from the Accused Chair.

"Well done, Harry. Well done indeed!" The old man boomed. _And so begins the senseless tautology._ "Another provocative and stimulating speech! If I could applaud, I would." His sarcasm could be cut with a blunt knife.

Although Harry could not see his face, he could tell that Dumbledore had dropped his grandfather act.

"Unfortunately, I am needed at Hogwarts. I am the only wizard alive who can handle the wards-."

"Only because you changed the ward schemas!" Harry said strongly from his seat.

Dumbledore laughed once more. "That is correct, Harry. Ten points to Gryffindor!" With a shout of triumph, the old man broke free of his shackles and stood up to the surprise of the Wizengamot.

"I bid you all much luck with your session. FAWKES!" He declared, lifting his arms in a rather dramatic pose.

 _Two can play that game!_ He had planned to pull this trick at the subsequent press conference, but he did not mind doing it a bit early.

Harry threw Hermione a meaningful look.

She quickly read his mind and murmured a few words in Latin, and Harry jumped up from his seat, his cane elongating into a golden staff and his cloak billowing behind him. His entire being glowed a light gold, and he released an impressive amount of magic to fill the room. The mixture of his magic dimming the torches lighting the room and Hermione's creative runes that FC had tweaked were really a sight to behold.

"FAWKES! Creature of Light! Heed the words of Magik's Blessed." He declared to the fiery avian as it made its appearance. "Your master has defiled with his dark deeds the very bond that has summoned you! No longer is he a Leader of Light. Honor your existence and leave him to his judgment or, so help me, I will use every last residue of magic in my being to send you to the furnace from whence you sprang!"

Fawkes, the clever bird he was, hovered in mid-air just out of reach of his human companion and fire flashed directly in front of Harry. He stared into Harry's eyes - and for a moment, Harry believed the bird would ignore his bluff and make a fool of him. He had no spells in his arsenal to combat a purely magical being. Sirius had his wand trained on Dumbledore to place a few tracking charms on him in case Fawkes took him away.

Moments passed as the bird seemed to stare into Harry's mind and soul.

"FAWKES!?" Dumbledore bellowed in anger and desperation.

Harry reached out with a glowing hand and petted the beautiful bird. "Release yourself from your dark burden and find someone who deserves your presence," Harry whispered to the sentient creature.

The bird bowed its head to Harry and flashed from the room, leaving its former master to his trial and standing in shock.

Harry quickly summoned the wand out of Dumbledore's shaking hands and stunned the man in quick succession. Two Aurors and Lady Bones herself rushed forward to check Dumbledore for any other surprises and shackled him back in his chair.

Harry felt the wand reach out to his magic and declare him its new master. _It can't be!_ He stowed the whispering wand away. He would have to give it to Milton and FC to be sure.

"Chief Witch Marchbanks," Harry called out to the gaping woman, "I believe we can vote on a new agenda now."

Hermione deactivated her spells, and Harry pulled in his magic. He sat back in his seat as the room exploded in questions and shouts once more.

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Exhausted, Harry and Hermione exited the floo of Potter Manor many hours later.

"We make a good team." His friend said, stifling a yawn.

Harry could only nod in response.

Their actions, theatrical and dramatic as they might have been, saw to it that half-blooded, first-generational and even "mixed-race" witches and wizards were now guaranteed wizarding education upon their tenth birthday. They would have an orientation year that better prepared them for the British magical society. Discrimination based on blood, race or any other factor would be penalized by laws the drawing up of which Harry and Hermione had actively participated in.

Hogwarts would be a completely different place come January, when most of the laws came into effect and Hogwarts reopened. As Heir of Gryffindor, Harry had received the duty to take control of the wards with the assistance of a few curse breakers of his choice and pass the wards on to the next elected Headmaster. McGonagall would have been a shoe-in if her loyalty to Dumbledore weren't so deep and questionable.

"I can't wait for the new classes!" Hermione exclaimed suddenly, though not at surprising Harry.

After clearing up some misunderstandings regarding the financial status of the school, and promising to dig deep into the endless Slytherin and Gryffindor coffers, Chief Witch Marchbanks revealed a list of over 10 magical classes, 7 magical electives and 6 non-magical courses she believed Hogwarts should offer in order to be able to compete with other world-renowned schools. With her century-old networking and experience, and Harry's fame, they would most likely be able to staff each of the classes. First-gens, regardless of age, would be given a heritage test to see if they had roots in the magical society. All students would all be required to attend a Wizarding Customs course.

Harry and Lady Marchbanks would meet with a small committee to go over all the changes in more depth before the end of the year. Hermione had been pulled in even without Harry's insisting. She had impressed more than a few of the stuffy aristocrats with her intelligence when she was called on for her opinion as the only first-gen present.

It was also decided that Lady Marchbanks, Sirius, and Harry - Harry solely due to the wards - would head the interim leadership of school until the Board of Governors was revised according to Hogwarts Charter and the next Headmaster was sworn it. Harry had a feeling that Sirius was setting himself up for the position. He could only imagine the havoc his godfather was planning to unleash onto the school.

It had been rather jarring to Harry that neither Dumbledore nor the Board had actually been _sworn_ in as mandated by the Founders. They merely inherited, were handpicked for or usurped their positions. _Of course, the school has gone to the dumps if no one is forced to uphold the school's charter!_

Dumbledore's admissions under Veritaserum had rendered everyone in the room shocked and disgusted. His manipulations of their society ran so deep that even his avid supporters had turned their backs on him by the end of his two-hour trial - most of them had to since Dumbledore's confession implicated them for doing his bidding. Dumbledore had wanted nothing more than the complete and total control over Magical Britain. He had schemed and plotted since the beginning of the century to control every walk of life and install in all future generations utter subservience to him. It was frightening how close he had been to succeeding.

 _And he would have if my family hadn't brought me to Australia_ , Harry had thought then. Dumbledore even validated this mere moments afterward.

He admitted that he regretted nothing but not keeping a tighter leash on Harry. He revealed his plans to brainwash him and mold him back into the malleable and disposable figure he needed to accomplish his goals.

 _Merlin, FC and Uncle Virgil were completely right with their assumptions of Dumbledore motives. I should have never have doubted them._

"Are you still thinking about Dumbledore?" She asked, reading him like an open book.

He opened the door to his study for her. "I just can't wrap my mind around how many lives he's destroyed… Many of his manipulations began in the 1910s!"

"I know. Hundreds, if not thousands, of mugg- first-generational _s_ have left due to his actions and inaction."

Dumbledore revealed one his more hair-raising schemes: the utter destruction of the Olde and Traditional Families. He had pretty much sealed his fate when those words passed his lips.

Dumbledore had known from international research - which he later had banned in England - that first-generational witches and wizards were rarely _new_ magical Houses. They were usually the magical offspring of squib lines. He simply refused to educate or inform them of their heritage - just as he had done with Harry, so that the Lines never became strong again. He turned a blind eye to discrimination at Hogwarts as a professor, deputy headmaster and even subtly encouraged it as headmaster, and the rampant prejudices insured that the first-gens turned their backs on the wizarding world.

He even regretted not assisting Grindelwald and Riddle in killing off more Houses. He hated their rituals, their traditions and secretly wanted their power and prestige.

It was jolting just how sick the man was.

"I hate to think about how Hagrid and Remus will react to the news tomorrow." Harry hung their outer robes on a stand by the door before he summoned his pensieve.

He quickly removed the memories of the last few days so that he could review them more thoroughly tomorrow. His great-grandfather's portrait had instructed him to do so daily, but he found that it hindered his Occlumency meditation for some reason. He made a mental note to talk to Uncle Milton about that and the wand in his pocket.

"Who could have known that Dumbledore only allowed certain mixed-raced wizards into Hogwarts to increase his followers and spy network?" She said, helping herself to some reports and letters on his desk as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Harry paused in his memory extraction to observe her. She looked absolutely gorgeous as she pondered and read. He could watch her all day.

"Harry!" She said loudly, trying to catch his attention.

He shook his head. "Sorry. What did you say?"

She rolled her eyes and gestured to a letter. "You plan to release a study on your Patronus? I thought all of the Dementors were destroyed in Azkaban."

"Ah. No, unfortunately not. That was only one colony, and the only colony close to Britain. There are some in Russia and North America. Many governments would like to rid themselves of the demons, but they don't have a way to do so. Our colony had been the most docile, and the most researched due to their human-friendly nature - if you can believe that!"

Hermione gave him a look nearing adoration. She bit her lip in the sexiest way. "Unbelievable… may I - may I read the article before you submit it?"

Harry extracted the last memory and watched it swim for a second as he gathered his up the courage.

He walked around his desk and laid his hands on her hips. "You may. You can even co-author it." He raised a hand to stop her protests. "I know you feel left out sometimes, even uncertain by everything happening around me, but today proved something to me."

She stood as if entranced as he slowly removed the parchment out of her hands.

"What?" She whispered.

He took another step toward her, leaving only inches of air between them. "We make an awesome team." He was barely able to keep his fingers from shaking as he tucked some of her soft, vanilla-scented hair behind her ear.

"I- I agree." She said, her voice much different than it was moments before.

In the decades that followed, both Harry and Hermione denied being the first to kiss the other. It was one memory that neither of them reviewed in their pensieve since it was the one mystery they wanted to keep unsolved.

The kiss just felt _magical_. Harry was unable to keep his magic contained. It danced around them as if celebrating the kiss. His hands found her hips once more and her arms wrapped his neck.

 _Why did we ever wait to do this?_

Harry was deeply disappointed as they ended the kiss to get air.

"Please stay tonight." He begged. His voice deep and sultry.

His beautiful Hermione blushed at the proposition. "I can't. My father's birthday is tomorrow. It will be the first time I celebrate with them since before I left for Hogwarts. But…" She bit her lip again. _She doesn't know what she's doing to me!_ "- you can join me. If you want?"

"Yes." He said without hesitation. "Only if I can go as your b-boyfriend."

She jumped into his arms and stared at him in shock. "I - I … yes! YES! Of course!"

It was Harry who initiated the heated kiss that followed. All thoughts about Dumbledore and Hogwarts disappeared as Harry's magic resumed its dance of joy around the kissing pair.

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 **AN**

I hope you all had a safe and wonderful start in 2017! This is my New Year's present to you :) The longest chapter thus far.

 **Betaed by** Marc the Unruly


	16. Chapter 16: The Potter Yuletide

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 **Chapter Sixteen: The Potter Yuletide**

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Henriette Potter looked out upon the wintry, fairy-tale lands that, in mere months, would be hers. The Malfoys might be a relatively new family as far as the British wizard nobility were concerned, but their sense of style and architecture were unmatched as far as she was concerned.

The grounds she gazed upon were so spectacular that Henriette lost her breath. The immaculate gardens were arranged in circles around the manor. Paths of beautiful grey and green stone separated the concentric rows of statues and magical plants. The artistically trimmed hedges grew higher and the trees taller as the rows closed at the end of the manor wards.

"Wonderful, isn't it?" The Dowager Malfoy said as she entered the gorgeous and sweeping terrace. Henriette gave her elegantly dressed, future mother-in-law a deep curtsey. "No family pours more energy into the aesthetic appeal and comfort of their grounds."

Henriette nodded. The woman had aptly read her mind.

Lady Malfoy gazed sharply at her. "It almost softens the blow of being essentially sold and bartered away for political gain." The words were so soft that they could have been whispered. "Doesn't it?"

Henriette gasped at the insinuation. "My Lady! I never-!"

The woman gave her a grim smile.

"Come, dear girl. Who leaves their own betrothal party before the _guests_ do?"

Despite her rudimentary Occlumency, Henriette still blushed.

It was definitely considered bad form, but she couldn't bear being around Harry at the moment. His bright eyes and cheerful demeanor sickened her to her stomach. She had managed to keep up the farce for a while, but she realized she needed fresh air after dinner.

"I apologize if my actions insulted you or the Family in any way. I just needed… I needed a moment."

Lady Malfoy's smile grew. "It is not widely known or discussed, but I did the same."

Henriette gaped in a rather unladylike manner. "No one ever told me that!"

"How could they? All present were sworn to silence by my father… which Lord Potter is most likely doing as we speak."

 _To preserve the Family honor… Familia super omnia_ , Henriette added unhappily to herself. It was only months ago that she was prepared to sacrifice her cousin for the sake of the Family. Yet now, with the tables turned, Henriette was definitely not happy to be on the receiving end. Karma had spited her completely and utterly.

It was clear to her that she had been released from one cage only to be assigned to another.

Still, there was no doubt in her mind that she could still push forward with her plans for making a name for herself with or without the ball and chain she would soon call husband - Draco Lucius Malfoy.

She was not disappointed with his manners, intelligence or looks. He seemed well-groomed and confident - both of which Harry had been lacking when she first met him.

As tradition dictated, Henriette and her future husband had not been alone unsupervised since she had arrived three hours ago. She had to sit with the Ladies while her mother and Lady Malfoy led discussions. Lord Malfoy had greeted her with respect and genuine appreciation, even with an acceptable amount of lust. Henriette still couldn't shake the butterflies that his initial look sent straight to her belly.

"It was to save face, of course." Lady Malfoy continued wistfully, yanking Henriette out of her thoughts. "My eldest sisters had been arranged to respectable men. Bellatrix, my eldest sister, was promptly married off to a scion of the Lestranges after she left Hogwarts, and Andromeda was to marry Lucius…" A pained look crossed her face. "Andromeda had other plans, however. She had fallen in love with the mud- excuse me, _first generational_ wizard Theodore Tonks."

Henriette watched with bated breath as the woman bared her soul.

"It was a scandal of the highest proportions! A Black seduced by… someone of lower blood. Oh, how the newspapers ran with the story. Father attacked Mr. Tonks and nearly landed in Azkaban for the use of an Unforgivable." She gave a harsh laugh. "The Malfoys were implacable. It was my own dear mother who decided to offer me to the Malfoy heir with a sizeable dowry and a bit of land in southern France." The flawless fingers gripped the ivory railing in visible anger.

"At first I rebelled, and was thoroughly punished." Her laugh was as cold as the air around them. "It was after my loveless wedding and before the birth of my son that I realized the power I held over my husband and over the family that sold me off to him... I seized it."

She spread her arms out in the direction of the grounds. Her elegant dress and robes cascading around her. " _This_ is my work. Every stone and _every_ painted inch of this manor is my masterpiece. It is the talk of the world, as is the woman who made it. Even my blood family looked up at me in awe. I control every aspect of this _House_. To his dying day, my husband did not know all of the secrets of this place, of my hand… of _my stronghold_."

Henriette heard doors opening and alcohol-tinged voices. She made to interrupt the woman, but Lady Malfoy's eyes burned with passion.

"You too will have to play the game, yet your battle is already half-won. You do not have to decide if you will be a quiet, weak-minded extension of your husband's fancy or a dangerous shadow that is bound to him but can be larger than him if the lighting is right. You will not have to fight as I have." She turned to Henriette, her eyes burning into those of the future Lady Malfoy. "My son is a good man. I made sure of that. He is, however, only half of the man he can be."

"It was _you_ who pulled House Potter out of murky waters and into a Golden Age. It was _you_ who worked on Lord Potter and made him into the great man he is now… I followed any information on you in the newspapers. I observed your work, your changes and your abilities from afar. You worked miracles on your Lord Potter _and_ you worked miracles in his stead. There is a reason why _I_ agreed with that outrageous bridal price!" She sneered briefly. Henriette wondered briefly if she was angry because Henriette's bridal price was much larger than hers, that Henriette had a bridal price rather than a dowry or simply due to the amount. "I see potential in you, in your style… in the ways in which you can make Draco into a great man."

There was a brief moment when Henriette swallowed a question that burned in her throat. _What if I don't want to?_ Soon, however, she weighed the potential and potency of her plans of revenge against Henry with a trusting man on her side, and she considered the disadvantages of working against her future husband and his obviously powerful - _and power-hungry_ \- mother.

The political side of her mind was not delighted. Even if she led Draco to greatness, his mother would be remembered as the woman behind House Malfoy.

 _That just will not do_. She thought with a small mental smirk. Her mind rapidly laid plans and counterplans. Henriette had been the woman behind Lord Potter. She would be the next Lady Malfoy. She would show the old blonde how one led a House.

She gave an almost indiscernible nod just as her future husband entered the terrace with a deep and equally low bow to both of them, showing that he respected them equally. The smile on Lady Malfoy's face cracked ever so slightly.

"May I escort my fiancée to the sitting room? I believe Lord Potter has a few words before the connaissance begins." His confidence faltered slightly as he offered her his arm.

Henriette made her decision. If her future husband already considered her on par his mother, then she only had minimal work ahead of her. _I can work with this._

"Your gardening is simply magnificent, Dowager Malfoy. Perhaps I can have my Lord Potter make an offer regarding some of the Potter properties?" She asked as she took Lord Malfoy's offered arm.

The brief, pinched look on the older woman's face was all the reaction she received to her dig.

"That is not a bad idea, mother! It would give you something to do once Henriette becomes familiar with the routine of a Lady Malfoy." Her future husband said instantly, oblivious to the tension in the air. "Your landscaping skills _are_ unmatched."

He nodded to his mother who curtsied silently in response. She gave Henriette a small sneer when her son was not looking.

Henriette gave a tight nod in return to her competitor, but inside she was glowing and appreciating the feel of her first success against her future mother-in-law. Regardless of how beautiful Lady Malfoy's manor grounds were, Henriette's aspirations were above and beyond that. The future Lady Malfoy would be known for more than a mere manor and a green-thumb.

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"Henry?"

Harry looked up from his report on his Patronus and Dementors to see his Uncle Virgil standing in the doorway.

The report was set to be published with Hermione and the former Azkaban employee, Haros Caronte, as co-authors. Harry wondered how publishers and magizoologists worldwide were going to react to the revolutionary findings of two half-bloods and a first-gen.

Caronte was worried about the reception. He had written Harry nearly on a daily basis, but Harry reassured the man that it would get published in every major Magizoology publication worldwide. He was sure his name would carry enough weight to at least bring the paper into consideration.

 _I hope it gets published on Valentine's Day._ It would be a good present for Hermione.

"Regina and Lester should be arriving any minute now. I don't expect Percy to be on time. There isn't a punctual bone in his 95-year-old body!"

Harry smiled as best as he could. Despite the man's humor and radiant excitement, a strange awkwardness and distance had spoiled all of their interactions since his uncle's arrival two days prior.

 _I wonder how much of this tension is due to the Gathering and how much is due to my actions toward Henriette._

It had been over 60 years since a Potter Gathering had been held. 1930 had been a crazy year, Harry had been told. The tragic, double deaths of Virgil's brother, Heir Presumptive Hardwin Potter Jr. and his father Lord Hardwin Potter within days of each other almost overshadowed the subsequent wedding of Harry's great-grandfather, Charlus Potter, and his ascension to Lord Potter. Uncle Virgil had explained to him that the Family never found the time to meet again due to Grindelwald's War. Most of Uncle Virgil's brothers and sisters had been more than happy to stay away from the manor that their father had darkened in their childhoods.

 _Much like Henriette…_

Henriette, despite her obvious anger, was playing the part of the Lady of the Manor, and yet avoiding Harry at all costs. Harry had asked the elves to release Henriette three days before the connaissance at Malfoy Manor, to put her in her bed in the Lady's Wing while she slept. He had a feeling that her aggression was at least partially because of that.

He saw Henriette during breakfast some mornings, and that was it. She pretty much ignored his presence and gave Harry the cold shoulder whenever their paths crossed, barely maintaining a polite face around him. She had originally agreed to handle the decorations, and Harry would take care of the coordination, making sure that there was enough food, linens, potions and space for everyone. Now, Harry was doing it all.

Henriette had spent most of her time, as much time as possible, outside of Potter Manor. She hopped from gala to gala and from event to event with her new fiancé.

Harry was happy that she was gone if he were honest with himself, even if it meant more work for him. He was also happy that she and Malloy were hitting it off so well.

He even enjoyed reading about their exploits since the connaissance in the newspapers. Opening up an orphanage for magical children, regardless of blood, breed or Family name was a thoughtful and unique idea. _Calling it the "Potter-Malfoy Home for Displaced Children" however was just tacky._

Nevertheless, the press ate it up like ice cream. Henriette and Malfoy had been everyone's favorite topic since their connaissance - as the purebloods called the initial meeting between fiancés in a contractual marriage - went public. The initial public reactions of fury and disgust had quickly changed one or two days after the news broke.

Malfoy had invited the Families with connections to the Malfoys, the Potters, the Blacks as well as Lady Black and any other living Blacks to the engagement party. Harry was happy to see that few of the Blacks were interested in Malfoy's upcoming marriage. Harry was already Heir Black, meaning none of the Blacks even batted an eye at Malfoy, a former Heir Presumptive.

Sirius, Lady Black, Lady Malfoy, Cedrella Weasley, née Black, and Callidora Longbottom, née Black, were the only born Blacks present. _And Lady Black only came to gather blackmail material._

When it was announced that Malfoy would be marrying Henriette, all of the purebloods' masks fell apart in shock. Harry and Sirius - who had only come to see that particular reaction - had shared a good laugh about it once the evening had ended. Madame Bones shattering her monocle had sent Sirius into a giggling frenzy. The usually unflappable woman had recovered quickly to repair the broken glass and smack Sirius upside the head.

None of the purebloods had seen it coming. And when Lady Black inquired about the bride price, Harry had been forced to hide his smile with his teacup. He was sure that Lord Nott had had a conniption along with Lady Parkinson and Madame Longbottom.

Unfortunately, that was the only highlight of the last week. Harry had thrown himself into the preparations for the upcoming wedding of Andrew Edgar Jr. and Maeve de la Cruz at Potter Manor and the Potter Yuletide Gathering. Jonas and his father were having difficulties liquidating some of the Potter assets which had been frozen by vindictive Goblins. Jonas was still leaving the Manor frequently, searching for his snake-faced lord, and Harry wondered if the blond would survive his encounter with his enraged lord.

 _I don't think I would cry for him if he succeeds in finding the bastard…_

He had met almost twice a week with Lady Marchbanks who picked his brain for solutions to "Hogwarts' tumultuary habits of instructing and learning", as she quite eloquently deemed it. Dumbledore's trial and the subsequent publication of "The Life (and Lies) of Albus Dumbledore" by Rita Skeeter and Bathilda Bagshot had catapulted Harry into the limelight nationally and internationally for being the man who defanged the vicious almost-tyrant. Harry had even been encouraged by Minister Longbottom to act for Britain as the youngest representative ever to the International Confederation of Wizard - to be a figurehead for the downtrodden British masses.

Harry reluctantly agreed, only if Hermione could join him as his counsel.

 _And we thought the Wizengamot was horrible_.

Harry had the feeling that the minimum membership age for the ICW was nigh on one hundred. The representatives from Germany and France, both of whom looking as though they were two steps from dust, even came up to him and told him that him that they knew his great-great-grandfather Hardwin Potter personally. Hours of posturing and haggling over international trade routes, commodities and other rather insignificant matters had not done much to lift Harry's mood. He was sure that even old Binns could have made the meeting livelier.

All in all, Harry was simply exhausted and had been running on two Pepper-up potions and one time turning per day. His only ray of light was the beautiful brunette who frequented his manor and became his rock following her father's birthday a month ago.

Uncle Virgil gave a small sigh, drawing Harry out his thoughts, and closed the door to the room. Harry realized in the last moment that his uncle was still in the room.

"You seem stressed of late."

 _The understatement of the century._

Harry placed the Patronus report on the large stack of completed paperwork. Its partner pile of uncompleted paperwork had seemed to defy the laws of gravity before he sat down. Harry knew he would be using time Magik twice today just to stay afloat. _I probably already am._

He was pretty sure that his liberal use of Potter time-magic over the past few weeks had taken its toll of his physical age. He just felt older.

"I am managing," Harry said simply, leaning back in his chair.

Uncle Virgil jerked back in shock. He gave Harry an assessing glance.

"Every time I see you, you sound more and more like your great-grandfather." He whispered. "He too sat in that very chair after taking the Lordship following our father's and Hardy's deaths, with the very same look and posture, and gave the very same answer."

Harry almost rolled his eyes.

"I'm sure he had other issues than fixing a millennium-old school with an outdated and academically-lacking curriculum, dealing with the national and international press, a Veela wedding, a gathering of over a hundred Potters, a deviant Lady Regnant, vindictive Goblins and endless paperwork."

Virgil gave a soft smile. "You'd be surprised, I think."

Harry had barely swallowed his snarky response when Virgil suddenly pitched over the desk with a look of pain etched on his face.

"Are you alright?!" Harry jumped up.

Uncle Virgil lifted a hand to halt Harry. He braced himself on the desk to steady himself. Harry summoned the chair from before the fireplace and gently guided his great-granduncle into it.

Harry ran a shaky hand through his hair. He hesitated as he contemplated the ramifications of his next actions, but he charged forward. He expanded his senses with the Family Magic and examined the man before him.

Uncle Virgil gasped as the Family Magik roughly, yet without any true aggression, pulsed through him. That was the worst part about using Family Magik on family members: there was no way to be sneaky with it. The family member's connection to the Family Magik alerted them instantly when it was being used in their presence.

Harry received an immediate signal from the Family Magik. He gasped and pulled the magic back with a snap.

Uncle Virgil sighed. "Henry…"

"When were you planning to tell us that you have a deadly curse slowly sapping away your life energy?" Harry interjected angrily.

"I wasn't." The man said simply. "It is a rather benign curse. A dark reminder of my days in the force."

Harry opened his mouth to ask a follow-up question when the door to his study opened silently.

"Henry. Everyone is waiting for you in the main ha- what's going on here?"

Uncle Virgil gave Harry a warning look as he made a show of dusting himself off. He stood and made his way towards the door.

"Thank you for listening to the concerns of an old man, Henry."

Harry swallowed his anger and sadness. He nodded curtly and made to follow when he saw the stack of paperwork on his desk disappear.

A small note lay in place of the paperwork: _four hours_ , it read.

Harry turned to his uncles. "I'll be done in a few moments."

As they departed and the door closed behind them, Harry went into the private study next to the Lord's Study and gathered the Family Magik around himself and, with the appropriate time point in mind, _pushed_ himself into the past.

He grabbed a Pepper-Up potion from his private stash and summoned the stack of paperwork with a sigh. It was days like this that he missed only having to worry about school work, Quidditch and Voldemort.

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Hermione adjusted her dress for the umpteenth time in the mirror. She had just finished her makeup. She wasn't allowed to touch her hair for fear of Mauve, Harry's soon-to-be cousin of some convoluted degree.

 _Purebloods, honestly! Who counted upwards fifth cousins nowadays?!_

The blonde beauty was eyeing Hermione suspiciously out of the corner of her eye as she added the final touches to her own dress.

Hermione sighed and gave up.

"Here, let me." The blonde said before she fixed the shoulder of the dress. "And, Ladies don't sigh!"

Hermione caught herself before she rolled her eyes - _Ladies don't do that either, of course._

Despite her character being completely against pretenses and putting on airs, Hermione had had to remind herself multiple times over the past weeks that she was doing it for a good cause. She and Harry were going to change the world... from within.

Mauve, the princess-like daughter of a very important line of Spanish Veela, had taken it upon herself to give the "woman at Henry's side" a crash course in the behavior befitting someone of her station. Mauve really just wanted a break from planning her wedding, which was tomorrow. Hermione had spent more time with the blonde in Potter Manor than she had with her boyfriend of a month.

Hermione remembered feeling goosebumps rise on her skin at the hidden, albeit unintentional, insult to her behavior and upbringing.

She could hardly turn down two weeks of daily lessons.

"Done! You look _fabulous_!" The blonde gushed.

Hermione took a look at herself in the mirror and couldn't help but agree. Her hair, straight and voluminous, flowed over her shoulders like silk string. And the dress...

Mauve had ordered her a gorgeous, floor-length, backless, wine red dress. The dress exuded and demanded a level of confidence that Hermione lacked. Despite her discomfort of showing off her womanly curves, Hermione had to admit that the one shoulder dress still managed to fit her personality just as well as it did her body.

 _I look like a celebrity._

The evening dress featuring a ruched bodice with a keyhole opening on the single shoulder strap. She turned slightly; the dress swishing elegantly around her. Multi-colored, glittering beaded - _are those diamonds?_ \- straps crossed her body making her feel slimmer than she truly was in the right areas.

The little train attached to the trumpet-style, split skirt added a seductive flair to the ensemble.

After of few moments of speechlessness, Mauve gave a beautiful laugh. "I told you. You will be a showstopper today… Tomorrow is my day." The blonde said in a faux-haughty tone and a ridiculously obvious wink.

This time Hermione couldn't hide the roll of her eyes.

"I don't know how to thank you, Mauve. I… wow."

The blond waved away her gratitude and took a closer look at Hermione's attempt to apply makeup.

"Little is more for makeup." She spelled away some of the mascara and the rouge. "You are lucky that you have a great, healthy complexion! You definitely don't look like the rest of those pasty Britons."

Hermione frowned as it became clear to her that the beads on her dress were in fact diamonds of various colors.

"This dress must have cost a fortune."

"Not at all. I added it to the expenses for the wedding. And it isn't like you can't wear it again. I'm pretty sure Henry will want you to wear it to the next Ministry Ball or gala, or whatever they call it."

Hermione blushed crimson.

"... that is, if he doesn't rip it off of you tonight!"

"Mauve!"

The blond turned away, laughing.

Hermione had never had many girls as friends, or many friends at all. Her studious habits had isolated her from the Gryffindor girls in her year. Her high-achieving mentality had also kept girls at Hogwarts away. Besides Ginny, who helped her with makeup for last year's Yuletide Ball and sent her a rather cold congratulatory letter on her new relationship with Harry, Hermione interacted with few girls her age.

Her use of the Time-Turner in her Third Year and her death-defying adventures with Harry made her mature much quicker than the other girls.

Mauve was the first woman Hermione had ever built up a mentor/girlfriend-like relationship with. _And I definitely don't regret it._

The blonde was aiming to get her Masters in Charms, Transfiguration and Defense simultaneously. While the combination itself was not unusual, it was nearly unheard of to aim for all three at the same time and spoke to Mauve's intelligence. Hermione thoroughly enjoyed having intellectual conversations about Ladies of Houses, magical theory, history and customs with Mauve. She was sure she would have been lost without the blond since purebloods trained each other in their ways rather than writing it all in books.

 _And Harry has been too busy to have more than a 30 min conversation with me lately._

Hermione opened up to Mauve about her relationship with Harry, however, and regretted it almost daily ever since. Mauve just couldn't believe that she and Harry hadn't taken their relationship to the "next level". She took to making small sexual comments whenever she could. Once she even discussed the proper ways of polishing a wand and - once Hermione caught on to the innuendo- had Hermione blushing for days whenever she saw Harry.

With a few spells for final touches and to keep everything in place, Mauve suddenly bustled them out of the Ladies Chambers to where the gathering would be held.

Hermione hastily greeted the Potters she knew along the way. Everyone seemed to be rushing in the same direction even though there had been no mention of a start time for the Gathering. It was as if they all instinctively knew that something would be happening soon. _I wonder if that has something to do with the Family Magik_

The butterflies resting in her stomach returned suddenly. It hit her that she was attending a Potter Family event. She had made the difficult decision to attend without letting Harry know, just to surprise him. Her presence would send a message to all present.

She would be attending as a future Lady of the House. Mauve made it very clear to her that her presence would not be interpreted in any other way. She would be making a statement, and, frankly, it scared her.

 _What if Harry doesn't approve? What if his family doesn't approve?_

Harry had pointed out many instances where it was obvious to him that his family had been pushing him and his cousin, Henriette, together. Hermione hoped that it was just a fleeting decision.

As she hurried with everyone else through the rapidly filling hallway, a small part of her mind reminded her that she shouldn't care.

She was sure that it didn't matter to Harry what his family thought about his love life. He made that very clear to her after a few biting articles in the Daily Prophet about her assuming the Dagworth-Granger Heirship and the possibility of a future Potter-Dagworth-Granger marriage. The Potter-Malfoy engagement had only satisfied their gossip thirst for so long before the vultures moved on to their next targets.

Hermione suddenly remembered why she hated wearing heels when she was forced to stop suddenly as someone emerged from a side room and nearly crashed into her.

She froze as she and the other person made eye contact.

Mauve's hand on her arm tightened suddenly, and Hermione remembered her manners.

She gave a slightly abrupt, yet deep and full, curtsey in respect to the girl she had so hated for many months.

There was an uncomfortable beat where Henriette, on the arm of her blond fiancé, seemed to hesitate. The raven-haired beauty gave a similarly deep curtsey as her fiancé responded in kind with a bow.

"Lady Potter-Malfoy," Hermione said crisply.

"Heiress Dagworth-Granger." Both Henriette and her soon-to-be husband intoned in the most expressionless voices they could muster without sounding demeaning. Hermione noted that the two looked rather dashing in their turquoise ensemble despite their slightly pinched, holier-than-thou looks.

They turned at once with a look of indifference and headed off.

"Well done, Hermione." Mauve murmured as they continued their trek to the ballroom.

Hermione waved her wand at her foot and merely sighed as the ache in her left foot gradually receded.

Her thoughts turned from Henriette's behavior and her unsettling, yet apparently fitting, upcoming marriage flitted to Harry quickly. She had tried arguing with him about selling his cousin off to the highest bidder from multiple angles. Harry had been unrepentant in regard to his decision. He even went so far as to demand that Hermione no longer questioned his decision.

She had fumed for days.

Mauve pulled Hermione into the ballroom, and Hermione suddenly felt very small. She, like many others around her, looked at the room in awe. Harry and his cousin had turned the rather impressive room into a small winter wonderland.

Enchanted icicles hung from the high ceiling and glowed white and blue. Frost and glowing fairies floated around the edges of the room. There were dozens of tables with expensive white tablecloths arranged in a circle around, what Hermione assumed to be, the dance floor. Each table had a large, icy bubble-like material around it.

What really caught her breath were the walls. They were spelled to reflect some gorgeous, enchanting garden. Hermione recognized it moments later as the Potter Manor's snow-covered gardens.

 _They even prepared the gardens with gazebos._

Her jaw unhinged from her face as she watched a small group of children playing hide and seek race from a gazebo _through the wall_ and into the room.

 _What magic is this?_ She had never heard of spells that had such an effect!

A small hush went through the room of mingling Potters. Everyone turned in the direction of the entrance, where Hermione also stood, transfixed.

Hermione turned and found herself looking at Harry and a few elder wizards and witches.

"Hermione?" Her green-eyed friend said softly. His eyes drank in her appearance and were filled with such emotion that the butterflies in Hermione's stomach exploded excitedly.

.

.

* * *

.

.

When Harry entered the ballroom, his mind simply went on vacation.

"Hermione?" He managed to get out.

 _She looks like a red angel_.

A small cough from Uncle Virgil brought Harry back to the task at hand.

He stepped into the ballroom - peripherally admiring the product of many months of planning and many weeks of hard work - and led the procession of Uncle Virgil, his great-granduncles Percival and Lester, and his great-grandaunt Regina to the table opposite the entrance doors.

Family magic hummed happily around them, happy to have so many Potters together. The room glittered spectacularly around them. Harry could feel his magic and the wild magic join in. They reached out to every person present and interacted with each person's individual magic.

A small alert went through him as the Family Magik mingled with that of Jonas and Malfoy. The taint of Voldemort on their magic, even more so on Jonas due to his Dark Mark, felt like someone had suddenly poured dirty, cold oil on him.

Harry shook the feeling off as he drew close to his gorgeous girlfriend.

With one arm, a swift movement and a small amount of wandless magic, he pulled Hermione gently to him without breaking stride or causing either of them to stumble.

"Hello, gorgeous." He whispered hotly in her ear.

Hermione sniffed slightly, briefly reminding Harry of the venerable Lady Black. "Don't think for a moment that you can pull and move me around like one of those pureblooded trophies."

Harry paled. "I- I didn't mean to upset you. I swear! I-."

A small giggle from the brown-haired witch threw him off. "Gods Harry! I know you didn't mean any affront. I know you better than _anyone_."

Harry caught her throwing a brief look at a scowling Henriette. _Ah. I wonder what happened there._ He merely tightened his grip on her waist and held her close to him. Tension seemed to slide off of her shoulders, and she gave a small sigh of content.

Harry gave himself a mental pat on the back.

As they reached their table, his great-granduncle Percival silenced the room with a look, as was his duty as Elder Potter and oldest of the Harry relatives. "Presenting our Lord Henry James Potter, Most Noble and Ancient House of Potter. Blessed be this Yuletide reunion."

As one, most of the room bowed or curtsied deeply.

Harry swallowed the sudden lump in his throat at the ninety-six Potters and partners who all turned to look at him. Family Magik swelled upon all in the room.

"We come together for the first time in decades for many reasons." Harry began with a strong, magic-infused voice. "We are family, despite the distances between our homes. We are one, despite our differences in opinions. Together, we shall bring honor for generations to come! Familia super omnia! _Potters super omnia_!"

" **Potters super omnia!** " The Potters in the room chanted as one.

"Let this be the first of many happy reunions. Let us dine, dance and be merry." Harry said as the Family Magik was released merrily. A small cheer went up from some of the children in the room as magicked snow fell from the ceiling and soft music started.

Harry took care in seating Hermione before claiming a seat for himself next to her.

As soon as his bottom touched the chair, the room burst into activity. Children ran around. Cousins from all over the world cheerfully greeted one another and introduced their families to others.

Harry smiled at the cheer in the air and relaxed into his seat. He wondered briefly if this was how Dumbledore used to feel at the Head Table at Hogwarts. Harry could see himself also getting used to creating an atmosphere of happiness and cheer for others.

Two sets of twins, both pairs the children of Orville Jonas's brother Calder, chased a rather evasive and large snowflake in and out of the room. Harry could see his Uncle FC sneakily directing the snowflake with flicks of his wand from a nearby table. Even Henriette had dropped her scowl and was introducing Malfoy to Karl von Habsburg, the son of Harry's great-grandaunt Regina von Hapsburg, née Potter.

 _This is how it should be_ , he thought to himself, satisfied with the turnout and the energy in the room.

Harry's attention returned to his table as Hermione and his great-grandaunt shared a loud laugh with the others. He realized briefly that dinner had been served as a crisp-looking salad waited for him.

"What did I miss?" He asked, picking up his utensils.

The mirth on Hermione's face sent a tingle of happy emotions straight through Harry.

"Well, after you dozed off in Harry-land and neglected to introduce me to everyone," Harry ducked his head slightly in embarrassment. He grabbed Hermione's hand under the table and gave it an apologetic squeeze. She merely smiled at him in return. "I introduced myself and just asked your great-great-aunt how the von Hapsburgs managed to survive after World War 1."

"Please, dear, call me Aunt Gina." His aunt said brightly. "No need to make me feel older than I am!"

Hermione gracefully nodded her head. Harry noticed looks of acceptance pass among those present at the table. He narrowed his eyes suspiciously at his Uncle Virgil.

He had a feeling that the man and his siblings were up to something.

"It was quite simple actually. Faking one's death does leave some rather tedious restrictions your social life, though," his aunt said with a small smirk. "I found comfort in the many other magicals who had to do the same for one reason or another."

Hermione's eyes were alight with curiosity. "Are there really so many cases of magicals who have to fake their own deaths?"

"Absolutely!" Harry's great-granduncle, Lester Lloyd's wife, Charlotte-Marie Potter, née de Sade, said in a distinctive, highly accented voice. "How would we explain a hundred and thirty-year-old like your Winston Churchill to ze non-magicals?"

Harry relaxed for the first time in days as Hermione took over the conversation that revolved around the interactions between the non-magical and magical worlds. Her knowledge of non-magical history was apparently rather extensive, and his relatives were rather happy to reminisce and humor her avid and thought-provoking questions.

Harry barely batted an eye until after the dessert arrived, and he made to go mingle with his numerous cousins.

He rolled his eyes good-humoredly as Hermione captivated the entire table in a discussion on how non-magicals viewed the mysterious origins of Grigori Rasputin, who was apparently a bastard Russian half-blood.

Harry roamed the room from table to table introducing himself to many and getting life-updates from those he knew on Uncle Virgil's side of the family.

By the time he returned back to his table, the desert had vanished and a few couples were already dancing in the middle of the room. Many of the older individuals were enjoying a post-meal drink outside in the gazebos. Harry chuckled as he watched Uncle Virgil twirl his sister around as if they were decades younger.

Hermione was not at the table. He did a search of the grand ballroom until he found her near the wall studying the magic intensively.

"If you want, I can show you the Family enchantment." He said sidling up to her silently. Surprising to him, Hermione did not jump or react in any way to him sneaking up on her.

"You are not allowed to," she said in a forlorn voice. "I'm not a Potter as your cousin... as Henriette so kindly reminded me just now." She threw a disgusted look over her shoulder at his raven-haired cousin, who had obviously recently passed by the area. Anger passed through him.

 _Henriette has no right to decide who is or is not considered family._

She was technically correct, Harry reminded himself as he calmed down. With the spell being from the cherished Family Grimoire, she wasn't allowed to even touch the book, let alone see the spell unless she was deemed a trusted and bonded member of the family by the Family Magik.

"I believe you won't have to worry about that for much longer." He said softly as he wrapped his around her and inhaled her vanilla scent.

He felt her surprise before the look of confusion on her face turned into one of comprehension.

"Harry…"

Harry's lips captured hers in a soft kiss.

A small flash broke them apart. His cousin Jasmine stood before them with a ridiculously large camera.

"You will enjoy the picture." She gave them a small smile. "We will all need good memories of this night." She said, sounding both wise beyond her years and saddened for some reason before she bounced off to take pictures of the others.

Harry stared after the little Seer. An icy feeling stabbed its way down his back.

He didn't have time to wonder what his little cousin meant since Hermione was suddenly pulling him away from the wall and towards the dance floor.

The area seemed to clear as they arrived, but neither of them noticed it. Harry's eyes only saw Hermione's.

Harry pulled her close and led them in their dance. The world around them faded away.

 _I wonder if she realized that I just declared my intention to marry her_ , he thought as they slowly danced in a circle to the soft music.

After what felt like an eternity of bliss, Harry felt the wards around Potter Manors alerting him of danger. He lifted his head from the back of her Hermione's and looked around.

"Harry? What's wrong?"

Harry ignored her for the moment drawing his wand, and magic gathered around him. He searched for Henriette and Malfoy. They seemed to be enjoying themselves with Uncle Virgil near Harry's table.

 _Jonas!_

Harry frantically searched for his wayward cousin. Those around them also looked alert, though no one knew what Harry was reacting to.

He quickly finally spotted the blond boy leaning on a table behind Harry with his wand in hand and a deep scowl on his face. Harry saw the Dark Mark on the blonde's arm pulsing with a dark light, unseen by those around him.

 _The bastard!_ Harry's magic flared angrily. Even Hermione took a step back from him.

"Henry!?" Uncle Virgil called out, rushing in his direction. The room had gone quiet as everyone looked at Harry worriedly.

Harry only had eyes for his cousin. He apparated to directly in front of Jonas and disarmed him wordlessly. In a blink of an eye, the blond was chained to the wall.

"You dare betray your own FAMILY!" Harry bellowed. "Demeaning yourself by licking the boots of the hybrid master of yours is one thing, this.-"

There was a loud boom, and the room shook slightly. Harry felt the centuries' old wards ripple under an immense attack from inside and out. Children began running frantically to their parents. Someone was crying.

"What is going on here!?" Jonas' father said angrily, pushing Harry away from his son and trying to unchain Jonas from the wall.

Harry had no time to explain himself as another attack on the wards pushed him down to his knees. Uncle Virgil tried to catch him.

The man went from looking like a cheerful grandfather to a battle-worn warrior in the blink of an eye. He threw a surprised look at his grandson's arm.

"Jonas? What have you done?" He murmured sadly.

Harry shakily got back to his feet, ignoring the panicking mass of people. "Potter Manor elves to me!"

Before the elves could even pop in, Harry was issuing commands. "Evacuate the room. Children and their parents first! Take everyone to the Potter safe-house."

He looked around quickly for FC, and he found the man hurrying toward him.

Harry dropped to his knees again, shouting out in pain. "I can't hold the wards! They are attacking from two sides!"

His vision swam as the pain receded briefly.

Hermione was casting spells on her dress so she could move more freely. "Harry! Look at me! You have to stay focused."

"I need Henriette." Harry managed to get out through the pain. "Wards. Henriette has to hold-."

A look unknown to Harry crossed her face and was gone before he could think about it.

"HENRIETTE!" Hermione shouted.

As the next assault began, Harry was happy he was already on the floor. He convulsed heavily. FC cast a cushioning spell on the ground beneath him, for which Harry grateful. As the convulsions stopped, Harry felt someone press their hands to his temples and guide his face towards theirs. Blood dripped down his chin as he fought the urge to scream.

"Transfer them to me, Henry. You have to fight." Henriette's face swam into focus before his eyes.

Harry gritted his teeth. He didn't want to trust the girl, but he knew he had to. He wasn't able to bear the weight of the wards and protect the family simultaneously. Henriette was the only person in the room who had had the full weight of the wards before.

"Protect. All." Harry growled out at her. Henriette swallowed nervously and nodded wordlessly.

Despite their issues, a bond of mutual understanding still existed between them.

Harry took a deep breath and looked into her eyes. He _willed_ the wards to her. Images, ward schemes, runic patterns and much more flashed before his eyes. The transfer of the manor wards was over in an instant.

Henriette reeled back as if physically struck, and Harry sagged in relief. Malfoy ran to Henriette's side despite the number of wands that followed his every movement.

FC suddenly shoved two potions in Harry's face. Harry opened his mouth obediently.

He jumped to his feet, wand in hand, with his head pounding and the room swimming before his eyes. The elves had managed to evacuate most of the people in the room. Everyone else had their wands at the ready. It was clear to all what had to be done.

"Henriette, let them in," Harry said in the direction of his cousin and Malfoy. Henriette nodded, obviously in pain. She knew to lower the Apparation wards. Harry gave her an apologetic look, his eyes blazing with a furious rage. "Hermione, protect them." He nodded to Henriette and Malfoy, who, as a non-blood relative, had attended the Family Gathering without a wand.

Hermione gave a small nod and began whispering defensive spells to herself. If the situation wasn't so deadly, Harry would have made a joke.

A loud, booming crack of magical displacement preceded the appearance of ten or so Death Eaters and their master in the room.

 _I wonder where he dug up so many followers. I was sure most had died in the explosion. Maybe they had not been present that day._

Harry, like everyone else present, immediately unleashed a barrage of deadly spells into their midst. The intruders were outnumbered at least six to one, and the Potters were giving no quarter.

Henriette commanded the manor wards masterfully. Animated stone animals swarmed the room and protected the family from deadly spells. After two or three of the intruders fell, the others disapparated away one by one.

Cloaked in a shroud of darkness, Voldemort was showing why he was internationally considered one of the darkest Dark Lords of all time. The man was still suffering under the Potter Judgement spell since he had created the horcrux after the Battle of Azkaban. Harry assumed the man had used his last horcrux to return to strength. FC had feared that the creation of an eighth would make snakeface even more unhinged and magically unstable. Harry couldn't help but hope that the monster imploded as FC Australian Unspeakables believed he would.

As a stone eagle exploded near his head after intercepting a rather evil looking curse, Harry knew the battle would have to end soon. Voldemort was holding up admirably under the power of 50 wands and not even at full strength or with his bonded wand. They also didn't seem to be tiring him out anytime soon.

 _No one needs to get hurt tonight_ , he told himself resolutely.

He gathered his magic, the Family Magik, and the Wild Magik that swirled in the area for a final attack. With a mighty growl, Harry released the magic in a torrent of unearthly light beams at the monster.

" **Be gone from our midst, beast of darkness!** "

Voldemort let loose a scream of rage as the beams of light smashed into him. The smell of burning linen and skin filled the room.

The rest of the attack blurred by for Harry. Under the onslaught of banishing magic, Voldemort was cast out of Potter Manor with a loud boom as the wards ejected him. Harry's was suddenly looking into Hermione's concerned, brown eyes when her eyes took on an alarmed and frightened look. Harry then found himself looking into Henriette's blue eyes once more and feeling the weight of the wards rest upon his mind and magic once more.

 _That's not right_ , he thought. He had no time to consider the logical sequence of the memories since the next began.

He was suddenly on the ground, his head in someone's lap. _Hermione_. He knew instinctively that it was Hermione. He could spot Hermione's scent and feel her comforting magic anywhere. There was shouting and someone crying. _Don't cry_ , he thought when he realized it was Hermione who was crying. A spell of some sort illuminated that area around them with a yellow glow, and a large shadow covered him and Hermione.

And then the memories stopped. Harry blinked slowly and found himself lying on his back on a bed of sorts.

The scenery had changed, and Harry was suddenly looking up at a sterile, white-colored ceiling.

Voices around him spoke softly, but he could not hear them properly. They sounded close, yet still so far away.

"Henriette did the right thing." He heard someone - FC, he discerned - say in a low voice.

Hermione's voice responded from near his bed. "I won't argue on that." She sighed deeply. "I hope he survives the curse."

"The medi-witch said he was ill for a while," FC said coldly.

Harry made to sit up. "'m not ill." He groaned. His voice sounded raw.

Hands pushed him back onto the bed. He protested briefly. When he felt his magic spike and surround him, he took a moment to refresh his Occlumency shields and reined in his magic. He wasn't in danger.

"Lord Potter? Lord Potter?" A new voice said strongly.

Harry relaxed back onto the bed. "Yes."

"Good. He knows who he is." Someone said.

"Lord Potter, do you know _where_ you are?"

Harry took a deep breath. That a typical doctor phrase. "Most likely in a hospital… as usual." He said with a small cough.

Something was suddenly pressed to his lips by shaking hands. "At least you managed nearly three months without being sent to Madame Pomfrey," Hermione said softly as Harry took a sip of the offered water.

Harry opened his eyes once more, blinking away the pain in his eyes from the brightness of the room.

"Lord Potter, do you remember what happened?" He turned to see a nondescript woman in white medi-witch robes peering at him over a non-magical clipboard.

Harry growled deep in his throat. "Jonas." His magic spiked again in the room. The lights darkened and the bed shook slightly before he could control it.

The medi-witch looked to FC, who stood with arms crossed by the door, who nodded affirmatively to her unspoken question.

Harry took a deep breath and looked around.

"Where is everyone?" He waved away Hermione's attempt to help him as he slowly brought himself in an upright position. He had spent enough time in the hospital wing at Hogwarts to know better than to make sudden moves with a medi-witch present. "How is everyone? Were there any..."

"Harry…" Hermione began softly. Harry's eyes flashed angrily at her.

"I need facts. What happened? Is everyone safe? Did snakeface…" His voice caught in his raw throat.

"Henry, everyone survived." FC cut in after Hermione gave Harry an admonishing look. "Jonas tried to attack you once you received the wards from Henriette." FC swallowed a lump in his throat. "Dad jumped in front of the curse."

Harry's heart dropped.

"But… but you said everyone survived!"

Hermione grabbed Harry's hand. "Your uncle survived. He's just in bad condition."

"His brothers and Aunt Gina just left here to go see to him."

Harry could feel the inevitable lingering in the air. Hot, angry tears burned his eyes.

"How long?" He managed to squeeze out of his tight throat. "How long does he have to live?" His arms were suddenly filled with a tear-stained Hermione.

"The medi-wizard said dad has a week or two-." FC voice broke from the weight of emotions. "But with his other illness, a few days tops."

A sob broke Harry's resolve. It took a moment for him to realize that the sob had come from him and not Hermione. He closed his eyes and tried to process everything.

His mind tugged up a memory almost instantly. Jonas, pale and trembling, lay on the floor before Harry after having been cursed by someone and stared Harry directly in the eye. "Please forgive me."

.

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* * *

AN: Many thanks to my awesome beta Marc the Unruly. I apologize for the late post. As the story draws to a close, I find it getting more difficult to wrap up. :(

There will be two more chapters to this story. Any thoughts, feedback or suggestions to feed my muse? Review!


	17. Chapter 17: Changing Hogwarts

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 **Chapter Seventeen: Changing Hogwarts**

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Seeing the Ministry holding cells from within had never been on Dumbledore's list of things to do before he was called upon for his "Next Great Adventure". He never realized that the cells were so dirty and cold.

The accumulated filth covering every surface around him was what annoyed the fastidiously spotless wizard the most.

Many didn't know it, but Albus Dumbledore had a mild case of mysophobia. It was one reason why his brother kept his bar as dirty and dingy as possible - to ensure that his much-detested brother spent very little time in his presence.

The mere thought of his brother's unhygienic cleaning cloth made Dumbledore shudder.

The sound of footsteps heading in his direction brought Dumbledore out of his thoughts. He wondered briefly who could be visiting him. For someone so renowned and then so publically dethroned, Dumbledore had not had a single visitor in the many days he had enjoyed the Ministry's _hospitality_.

He assumed that he was being hidden or forbidden contact. _I expected at least Cassiopeia Black to stop by to gloat._

As the door opened and the visitor - a non-descript Unspeakable - subdued him with a series of stunners, Dumbledore remembered what the day was. It was time for his second interrogation.

The stunners limited his cognitive abilities, especially his ability to strengthen his mental shields for the inevitable questioning. Any Occulmens Master worth their title knew the easiest way to pass time was to reinforce their shields and revisit their memories. Dumbledore had taken it a step further during his incarceration and edited memories to such an impeccable quality that could fool even Veritaserum.

 _With the way things are progressing, it is better to be prepared than caught unaware_ , he had told himself after the last interrogation. As usual, his suspicion was correct.

His first and last, surprise interrogation had proven to him that he needed to be more careful and less assured of how he believed and assumed things would take place. After his brief, and rather revealing, questioning before the Wizengamot in November, he had been swiftly shown to a cell. He assumed then that the Wizengamot would simply vote to have him imprisoned in Azkaban until the end of his days.

 _However swift those thrice-damned Magic Suppressors will make that day come,_ he had thought then.

For a brief moment, he had not cared. Fawkes' desertion and the loss of the Elder wand had both destroyed him so thoroughly that he had not been in his right mind. He truly had not cared if he had gone to the Dementor-less prison or was sent straight through the Death Veil.

To Dumbledore's great shock, a day after he was declared guilty by the Wizengamot, he was taken by surprise, stunned and removed from his cell only to wake up in an interrogation room. He realized then he was not being condemned and secreted off to his doom. His highly-analytic mind had created several scenarios where he would be able to talk his way to freedom. And, while editing and discarding the scenarios, the door to the small room had opened with a bang.

 _"_ _I still believe we should just toss his evil, bony arse through the Veil and wash our hands of him!" Griselda Marchbanks growled as she stormed into the room. "He tried to escape by phoenix! It's unheard of!"_

 _Madame Augusta Longbottom, Director Amelia Bones, and Lady Cassiopeia Black followed closely behind. Even with his mind elsewhere, Dumbledore knew that nothing good could come of a meeting of the four most politically and magically powerful witches in the country._

 _"_ _I agree," Cassiopeia Black said in her usual, indifferent tone. "But, I agree with… Heiress Dagworth-Granger. The public and future generations will need closure. We will need to prevent any future arrogating of dictatorial powers by so-called Light Lords to themselves!"_

 _Despite how much Dumbledore hated the apathetic hag, he could only tip his hat to her eloquence. He had done just that._

 _"_ _And you don't really believe that his brief disclosure in the courtroom was all he has to share from his_ century _of manipulation, scheming and machinations?" Dumbledore heard his neck crack as he turned to see who the new voice belonged to and mentally berated himself for not noticing the arrival of a few others._

 _"_ _Ms. Granger?" Dumbledore blurted out, confused._ What purpose could she have here?

 _"_ _Of course, of all the prominent women in the room…" Lady Black said with an elegant roll of her eyes._

 _Ms. Granger giggled. "My presence must confuse him the most." The other ladies laughed at some private joke._

 _Dumbledore instantly recognized the woman next to Ms. Granger, having spent his childhood in Godric's Hollow with Bathilda Bagshot. Bathilda stood comfortably next to the poisonous 'Queen of Quill' Rita Skeeter and Lady Esmeralda Jones. Lady Paulina Abbott entered quietly and closed the door behind her._

 _His quick mind caught up with exactly which women were in the room and the meaning of their presence in_ one _room, in an interrogation room._

 _His shocked gasp cut through the side discussions in the room._

 _"_ _Judicia Representia…" He murmured aloud._

 _"_ _Damn it!" Augusta yelled randomly. "Of all the random laws, the goat could remember!" She withdrew a few galleons from her pocket and handed them to Amelia and Cassiopeia, who both accepted with a smirk._

 _Dumbledore ignored the blatant gamesmanship that would have normally added insult to his injury in light of the unexpected, unprecedented judicial proceedings._

 _It was basically unheard of, and definitely not public knowledge, that if the representatives of certain of the main parts of the government and public came together, they could call forth a special judicial body to oversee cases of treason or others crime of the highest caliber. If necessary, the Chief Wizard, Minister, Director of the DMLE, the leaders of each fraction of the Wizengamot, the representative to the ICW, the Headmaster of Hogwarts, a governor from the Hogwarts Board of Directors, with a member of the press and a member of the populace could form a legal junta or even a sub-government._

 _A small smirk graced Dumbledore's face as he did his mental tallying. With Chief Witch Marchbanks, Minister Longbottom, Director Bones, Hogwarts Governor Lady Black, Leader of the Light Lady Jones, and Rita Skeeter as a member of the press, there were still a few people missing._

 _"_ _Though I commend you on your knowledge of long-forgotten laws, you seem to be missing a few members of your party-."_

 _The door opened and interrupted him. His dear Minerva entered with Lady Malfoy - a rather particular pairing that neither woman seemed quite comfortable with - and gave a small apology for her tardiness._

 _While Minerva conjured a few seats for the others, Dumbledore quickly recounted mentally._

 _"_ _This meeting in_ judicia representia _is now in session," Augusta intoned suddenly. A snap of magic in the air forced all present to sit up straighter in their seats,_

 _Dumbledore blanched. "Th-this is impossible!" A few beads of sweat trickled down his face. He was not prepared for a questioning!_

 _He faced the gynecocratic wall of stoic and unforgiving faces on the other side of the table with obvious fear. He had foolishly thought his conviction would be swift and his deepest secrets safe. He quickly began to reinforce his mental walls and hide precious secrets in decades-old mental vaults._

 _No such meeting of government had ever occurred in Dumbledore's extensive knowledge of history, and he definitely had not reckoned with such a move._

 _"_ _Heiress Granger-Dagworth?" Augusta asked, turning to the youngest member of the panel._

 _An ICW grade dictation quill and a roll of official and - as Dumbledore mentally noted - very expensive Ever Parchment lay before the girl, at the ready._ How in Merlin's beard did she acquire one? _They were rarely seen outside of ICW meetings._

 _"_ _Ready, Madam Longbottom." The girl said seriously. She gave Dumbledore a small wink, which only confused him further. She wouldn't go against Harry to help Dumbledore out of prison, of that he was sure. He found himself swimming in confusion._

 _"_ _This in_ judicia representia _trial of Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, as ordained by the founding magic of this government, is in session with Minister of Magic Augusta Longbottom, Director of the Executive, presiding. I, Augusta Longbottom, swear to uphold the laws of this land with both my actions and words."_

 _"_ _I, Amelia Susan Bones, Director of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Director of the Judiciary, swear to uphold the laws of this land with both my actions and words for this trial of Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore."_

 _"_ _I, Griselda Marchbanks, Chief Witch of the Wizengamot, Director of the Legislative, swear to uphold the laws of this land with both my actions and words for this trial of Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore."_

 _"_ _I, Narcissa Malfoy, Governess of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, swear to uphold the laws of this land with both my actions and words for this trial of Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore." She glared at Rita Skeeter, who seemed to be all but bouncing excitedly in her seat._

 _"_ _I, Minerva McGonagall, Interim Headmistress of Hogwarts Institute of Witchcraft and Wizardry, swear to uphold the laws of this land with both my actions and words for this trial of Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore." She was barely able to keep herself from snarling at Dumbledore's loud gulp._

 _A small look was shared between Lady Jones and Lady Abbott, who then turned to Lady Black. Lady Black gave a stiff nod._

 _"_ _I, Esmeralda Jones, Lady of the Light, swear to uphold the laws of this land with both my actions and words for this trial of Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore."_

 _"_ _I, Paulina Abbott, Lady of the Grey, swear to uphold the laws of this land with both my actions and words for this trial of Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore." Dumbledore sighed._

 _The return of the Grey was inevitable, but it remained against everything he believed in. He had hoped that within the world of his creation divided into Light and Dark, the Grey would merely disappear after a few generations. He might have had many qualms with Dark magicals, but the Grey was the most unpredictable, powerful, and, worse of all, uncontrollable. He had a feeling that Harry would also re-align the Potters with the Greys, giving their base a powerful figure and more than enough credence to realign many formerly Neutrals._

All of my hard work...

 _"_ _I, Cassiopeia Black, Lady of the Dark, swear to uphold the laws of this land with both my actions and words for this trial of Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore."_

 _"_ _I, Rita Skeeter, member of the Press, swear to uphold the laws of this land with both my actions and words for this trial of Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore."_

 _"_ _I, Bathilda Bagshot, a citizen of the land, swear to uphold the laws of this land with both my actions and words for this trial of Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore."_

 _There was a brief pause. For a moment, Dumbledore believed the women had misread their history and forgotten that they, now, also needed the representative to the ICW. The ICW predated the Ministry of Magic by 15 years, thus any stipulations of the Wizards' Council Charter - and for_ judicia representia _a representative of each main branch of magical society must be present - had to be fulfilled. Dumbledore was, as far as he knew, the only ICW representative in the room, and he most certainly would not be swearing to question himself!_

 _He almost sighed in relief at the loophole. One of the most useful escape scenarios he was creating in his head was to use Ms. Granger's love of authority and play Augusta against Lady Black - solely as a distraction - while subtly reminding Paulina of the debt owed by the Abbotts to the Dumbledores from when one of his ancestors saved one of hers from a rampaging dragon. That scenario would take a lot of sweet-talking Minerva and Bathilda, but it would not be impossible. He would have to use the last of his power for some voice magic._

Or, I can fake a heart-attack and grab the wand of whoever comes too close. _He liked that scenario more._

 _"_ _I, Hermione Granger, official counsel to the British representative to the International Confederation of Wizards, swear to uphold the laws of this land with both my actions and words for this trial of Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore."_

 _"_ _ **So mote it be!**_ _" The women all said together. A burst of magic flowed through the room._

 _Dumbledore's mouth dropped open, and he was promptly petrified by Lady Bones. She swiftly used his surprise to slip two vials of potion into his mouth._

 _"_ _I told you it would be a glorious expression!" Lady Black roared with laughter. Dumbledore barely noticed Rita Skeeter fighting with her giggles to take a picture of his face. He was otherwise preoccupied._

 _Dumbledore felt the grip on his shields lessen dangerously. He hadn't lost control over his shields in over 80 years._ This should not be possible with normal Veritaserum!

 _Amelia cleared her throat loudly. "Due to the legendary Occlumency of the accused, two non-lethal doses of pure truth serum, a throat lubricant, undiluted Pepper-Up potion and a wit numbing potion have been applied," Amelia stated as the quill scratched in front of Ms. Granger, unknowingly answering Dumbledore's unspoken question._

 _The smirk on Ms. Granger's revealed to Dumbledore that the potion cocktail had been in some way her idea._

 _And then, the panel of intelligent and powerful witches proceeded to squeeze every secret, every manipulation and every memory - painful, insignificant or embarrassing they might have been - out of Dumbledore beginning with the simple question, "What did you do every day of your life as far back as you can remember?"_

 _The Pepper-Up potion had such an effect on him that he barely noticed his mouth moving, so quickly did he speak. He had no chance to stop the flow of information out of his mouth._

 _The panel of women left minutes into his monolog, at the point where he "received" his first wand illegally from his Uncle Wulfric at age eight. When the women returned, approximately ten hours later, Dumbledore was recounting his tenure as Transfiguration Professor at Hogwarts. After checking the parchment and quill, they left once more._

 _Dumbledore could feel the wit-numbing potion wearing off as he spoke about convincing and confounding his predecessor, Armando Dippet, into going into retirement earlier as rumors of Tom's return to Britain made it to him. He focused on trying to change or stem the words flying out of his mouth. They could not be allowed to know the secrets of his power, the rituals, the depth of his interaction with the Dark Arts in his youth, or the some of the things he had done to the families of many of the women on the panel._

 _Yet, try as he might, the pure truth serums held. It was a clever mixture of potions, and Dumbledore wondered briefly if it were of Severus' brew. The potions targeted the organizational aspect of Occlumency. He had not been directly asked to reveal anything specific. He regurgitated one memory after another in no logical order other than the day on which the memories were made. If he had been asked to talk about one single event, he would have been able to toy around with the wording by focusing on what happened and changing small aspects in his mindscape._

 _His mind was too organized to prevent the attack, and he couldn't focus on all of his memories at once. A bundle of memories all relating to the same theme, subject or secret, maybe, but a day usually had many unconnected events. Luckily, he successfully kept his mental vault locked with some of the darkest rituals and his own experimentations with immortality safe within._

 _At least there would be some secrets that ended with him._

 _He finally managed to stop speaking when the question had run its course._

 _His head sagged under dehydration and hunger. A small stinging hex abruptly woke him. He hadn't even noticed falling asleep. Lady Black stood above him with a wicked grin on her face, one which he would have just loved to spell onto her backside._

 _"_ _You smell unearthly, Albus." The grey-haired harpy said, cleaning him and his clothes with a rough scourgify._

 _His jaw ached from speaking incessantly for hours on end. She dipped a small healing potion into his mouth._

Of course! The oaths they swore prevent them from any inhumane acts toward him or and torture that could be considered in contempt of the law! _Dumbledore was suddenly grateful for the junta. He might just make it through and out of this._

 _Water and a soup of some sorts appeared before him, most likely mixed with nutrient potions, while Ms. Granger looked through the rolls of Ever Parchment with amazement. His hands were uncuffed from each other, but the Magic Inhibitors remained firmly on his wrist. He dug into his meal with gusto. The water tasted like heaven!_

 _"_ _91 feet of parchment!" She exclaimed as she removed the dictation quill - without the full panel present, no questions could be asked. "Astounding."_

 _She skimmed the first few before her eyes narrowed, and her brow furrowed._

 _"_ _Is something the matter, Heiress Granger-Dagworth?" Ms. Granger seemed to flinch slightly at the title._

 _"_ _I think you should call the others. I believe I know now how we can speed up this trial."_

 _Earlier, Dumbledore would have paid to see Lady Black take an order, indirect it might have been, from a muggleborn with Light tendencies and of Ms. Granger's age. He looked forward to the inevitable explosion. However, Lady Black merely left swiftly while Ms. Granger continued to read the rolls of parchment at a speed that would please any educator. Dumbledore watched conflicted as the girl made a copy of the transcripts to make remarks on._

 _If Dumbledore weren't so hungry, thirsty and tired, he would have spoken to the clever girl to get her to share her thoughts with him so that he could prepare for the next round of interrogation._

 _As he finished his soup and bread, the other ladies returned._

 _Without warning, he was petrified once more and force-fed potions. The questioning recommenced abruptly._

 _"_ _What were all actions or activities you supported, agreed with or carried out that were immoral, harmful or against the laws of our country before the time they were enacted?" Dumbledore was taken aback by the question. He realized that he must have left some sort of holes or evidence of his misdirection in his answers to the first question. He wondered briefly what it was that tipped off the clever girl._

 _He spent some time answering at a more sedate pace._

 _"_ _What secrets, moments, ideas or events you never told another soul?" He was asked after answering the first question. He fought the question with all he had, but it was no use. He realized that there was nothing he could to hinder it. He was too weak and had no strength to take care of his shields._

 _The eleven women became much more attentive - and disgusted - the more his mouth moved._

 _He wanted to cry and shut his eyes to keep from seeing their reactions._

 _When he finished, he opened his eyes to see to multiple looks of horror and disgust. Bathilda shook her old head in shame, and Ms. Skeeter looked as though Christmas had come early._

 _Ms. Granger looked as if Dumbledore admitted to committing genocide on thousands of muggle children and their pets._ Though, if one counts the second battle of the Great War… _Dumbledore had done what he could to repress that particularly, dark memory._

 _"_ _Is there anything that you purposefully or unintentionally left out of your answers during this trial?" The muggleborn witch growled out._

 _After another ten minutes of answering, he visibly relaxed. He realized his mistake after Ms. Granger slid Amelia a small note._

 _Madame Bones narrowed her eyes. "Is there anything that you haven't told us in detail already that you have not told a soul, would not tell a soul or didn't want to tell us?"_

 _They had him._

 _When he was done responding, Dumbledore felt like a wrung out prune._

 _The ladies barely cast a look in his direction as they ended the trial, gathered the material and left the room._

 _"_ _Merlin… when this gets out!" Paulina Abbott murmured. "There will be a revolt in the streets."_

 _"_ _This is why we must control the releas-." Madame Bones said as she closed the door._

 _Dumbledore had been left, used and exhausted to his thoughts. He had been dragged to his cell by an Unspeakable and dumped there unceremoniously._

That was exactly one month ago.

Dumbledore was of no other use to the women at the moment. There was nothing he had to hide anymore, and - if he were truly honest with himself - he had never felt so _free_ in his life. Most of his life recently had been filled with scheming and manipulating to keep previous actions from being revealed and to keep contingency plans from being disturbed.

So it was with a polite, peaceful smile that Dumbledore greeted the silent group of women as they entered the interrogation room.

Once the set up their recording quill and retook their vows for the _judicia representia_ , Amelia admitted the potions to a willing Dumbledore. He missed the meaningful look that passed between Ms. Granger and Griselda.

Amelia began as she had before, "Due to the legendary Occlumency of the accused, two non-lethal doses of pure truth serum, a throat lubricant, undiluted Pepper-Up potion and a wit numbing potion have been applied."

Ms. Granger asked one question before the women all departed silently, "For each moment you can remember of your life, in chronological order, how did you feel and what did you think at that moment or of that moment?"

In the back of his mind, as his mouth moved on its own accord, Dumbledore wondered briefly what the purpose of this question could be. The looks on the faces of most of the women seemed conflicted. He considered the likelihood of them just wanting to know his thinking and decision-making before pushing him through the Veil.

 _Clearing their own consciouses most likely,_ he assumed with a mental sigh.

Just as before, the women returned to check the quill after a few hours. To their - and his - utter surprise, he was just about finished with his answers.

 _Maybe not fighting the Veritaserum did indeed expedite the answering?_ He remembered reading something similar in a research paper from a former student of Washington Irving Bishop, a world-renown Mental Mage from the States, who faked his muggle death at the end of the 19th century when the US magical court declared he was pushing the boundaries of the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy.

The women in the room all turned to Ms. Granger, who cleared her throat loudly.

"Please administer the antidotes."

It was Amelia again who poured the potions down his throat. He wondered briefly if there was a particular reason that Amelia seemed solely responsible for giving him potions.

"This session of _judicia representia_ concludes with the following sentence for the convicted," Ms. Granger began slowly. The other women seemed either annoyed or angry. "We find Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore guilty of the following crimes…"

Dumbledore tuned the rest of Ms. Granger's speech out. He knew whatever he would be convicted on would mean a long time in Azkaban. He wondered if they would be giving him magic suppression cuffs at his age or magic inhibitors. He was pretty sure he would not live to see his next birthday with the former since they blocked the flow of magic through the body and the latter merely prevented the use of magic. The magic inhibitors were so harmless that children with rather volatile magic were usually made wear them. Magic suppressors were usually only used on criminals and captives.

"Do you swear the oath, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore?" Dumbledore shook his head.

"Pardon. My mind was elsewhere, Ms. Granger."

Cassiopeia growled from her spot beside Madame Longbottom. "Her title is Heiress Granger-Dagworth!"

Dumbledore ducked his head in shame. "Forgive me, Heiress Granger-Dagworth. Could you repeat the oath and its purpose?"

Ms. Granger - and she would remain so in his mind - sighed. "In order for you to be able to expedite your sentence to a week in isolation and become a Professor of Alchemy and History in the Departments of Transfiguration and History at Hogwarts Institute of Witchcraft and Wizardry, you are required to swear the oath before you on your magic."

Dumbledore saw the oath on the parchment before him and did not hesitate to swear the oath. His mind whirled around the prospect of him returning to his dear Hogwarts.

"I, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, hereby swear on my magic to fulfill the following four oaths. I swear to serve the rest of my days as Associate Professor of Alchemy and History at Hogwarts Institute of Witchcraft and Wizardry beginning January 15, 1996. I swear to teach my subjects without bias and without favoring any student to the best of my abilities." Dumbledore could feel the magic gathering around him as he reached the second half of the oath.

 _Very clever! So wisely partitioned that I would feel relaxed enough not to stop until the magic settled after the second oath. Now, if I stopped reading, I would lose my magic for not completing the four-part oath._

"I… I swear to observe the rules of supervision as declared by this session of _judicia representia_ : I will have no unsupervised interactions with students nor will I interfere with their personal lives; I will only take off my magic inhibitors for practical applications of magic in classes and to defend myself or others; I will not leave the confines of Hogwarts without the unassisted and express permission of a majority of the panel members of this session of _judicia representia_."

Dumbledore rubbed his watering eyes with a shaky hand. Even he wasn't sure if they were tears of joy for getting a second chance or tears of fury for being penalized so severely and thoroughly.

"I swear to relinquish all of my earthly possessions to Hogwarts. I swear to never run for or influence anyone running for a political office in Magical Britain or elsewhere. I swear to be open and truthful in all interactions I have with others. So mote it be."

" **So mote it be**!"

It was only after the session closed, and he was being moved to his holding cell that it occurred to him that the word "Institute" had been added to Hogwarts' name. _What in Merlin's name had been going on in my absence? Surely Hogwarts hadn't changed so much?_

.

.

* * *

.

.

 _The day prior…_

Sunlight danced across every surface it could in the newly built Potions Mastery Lab at the recently rechristened Hogwarts Institute of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Since extreme exposure to sunlight rendered some potions ingredients - and even potions - toxic or unusable, the windows were all spelled to reflect the rays while illuminating the room.

Walls of pure and transparent, magical glass separated ten subunits of the lab. Severus Snape sat in the largest of the units. It was his main lab office and gave him a clear view into each of the other labs. He was considering moving his own personal lab from the dungeons in the room. The new lab had the best equipment, stockroom, and facilities he had ever seen, let alone been in. He found himself overwhelmed with emotion as he gazed out upon his realm.

He had not expected Lord Potter - _Harry_ , he abruptly reminded himself - to carry through with his plan to make Hogwarts the best learning institution in the world so quickly and thoroughly.

Harry had sat down with all professors and Madam Marchbanks the day after Albus' trial, after revisiting each contract personally and having them each swear an oath to uphold their contracts. The faculty meeting had the sole focus of discussing what each class needed, informing them of the research conducted in their field, into the school and into what practices and methods were being used by other professors and schools.

Needless to say, the entire room had been rendered speechless as he presented his finding in a persuasive yet none too criticizing manner. Hogwarts was a backward-thinking school for children and was struggling to hold onto its position as one of the premier schools of magic.

Harry informed them that Hogwarts would be undergoing a drastic change in teaching, facilities and target group. He laid out his plan to a shell-shocked group of professors.

No professor was to hold more than two positions, be it teaching more than two different subjects, or teaching while having Headship of a House or leading one of the new Departments. Minerva had all but bounced in her seat at that announcement. As Deputy Headmistress, Head of Gryffindor and Transfiguration professor, she had experienced how thin spread one could be with multiple positions. Harry called such multitasking an affront and hindrance to both professors and students while making it clear that the fault was not completely Minerva's but laid largely on Dumbledore and his manipulations. Additionally, no professor would be teaching more than 20 students per lecture class - something that all of them scoffed at as being logistically unrealistic.

Harry had produced critical empirical evidence from non-magical, private universities across the globe that proved the benefits of teaching fewer students and having fewer responsibilities. "Students shouldn't be shepherded through their learning but guided individually to greatness," he had stated then with power. Then Harry informed them of his mission: to transform Hogwarts from a mere school for children into the most renowned institution of learning _for all_.

The first classes instructed by the Founders of Hogwarts had not included just children but also adults who wanted to refine or complement their existing knowledge. Even professors should be encouraged to sit in on guest lectures or interesting lessons from their colleagues for their own professional development. He informed the professors afterward that Departments would be headed by Masters of the fields and would include apprentices, who would also function as associate professors and take on the bulk of the classwork.

It was also a practice Harry had learned off of many non-magical universities. Professors gave lectures, and their teaching assistants dealt with the day-to-day work, allowing the professors to focus on researching their own topics, training aspiring master students and instructing the few, precocious and budding future masters among the masses.

Harry gave each current professor - Trelawney, Hagrid, Burbage, Binns and Weasley excluded since new, Master-level instructors would be found for those subjects and Weasley's employment was ended rather abruptly - the choice to be the first Head of Departments at Hogwarts for their areas. The initial bulk of the work for the Heads of Departments would be to work with Harry to build up their facilities, their faculty and their objectives for the upcoming school year. He explained, after the beginning of the next term, he expected the Heads of Departments to produce more interest in their department and the Institute by holding a minimum of two conferences, bringing in famous and appropriate guest lecturers, balancing the budgets that each department would receive and optimizing the education of those in their department through goal-orientation.

It was the professional freedom that most of them were not used to but had always longed for. Rolanda immediately proposed a true Quidditch training program with proper brooms and feeding options for professional Quidditch teams. The English under-17 Quidditch team had been trying to get an official cooperation with Hogwarts for years, but Albus did not want to put "too much pressure on the children". Pomona began muttering about sponsored trips to foreign plant reserves, and Filius immediately wanted to revive the Hogwarts Dueling Circuit, both of which had been struck from the agenda in the last century for financial reasons by the former Board of Directors.

After a brief overview of the baseline wages for Heads of Departments, Heads of Houses, professors, associate professors, apprentices and guest lecturers, Severus and all of his colleagues were quick to agree to the challenge. Heads of Departments would receive double the pay of a regular professor due to their numerous responsibilities.

Harry had sat with each of them individually after the subsequent luncheon to sign a new Head of Department contract and most of them saw the beginning of a bright era at Hogwarts almost immediately.

That had been nearly a month ago. Since then, Hogwarts bustled with activity. Warders, stone masons, architects, artists, inventors and each of his colleagues all hurried to have the school prepared for the unveiling a week before the next term was set to begin.

Due to Snape's tenacity and his clear vision of what he wanted, the Potions Masters facilities had been the first to be completed. Snape looked upon his realm with pride. Every now and then one of his colleagues or a random visitor would drop by to see the state-of-the-art facility.

"Master Snape?"

Snape jolted in his mind. He hadn't realized he had spaced out, staring at the beautiful room and thinking about what grand things he would be able to accomplish there.

He turned to the dark-skinned, American apprentice standing at the entrance to his personal lab. "Apprentice Thompson. How is your potion coming along?"

The 24-year-old simply gave a loopy grin. Snape couldn't keep from rolling his eyes.

Of all of his three, soon to be five, Potions apprentices, Jamal Thompson was the most anathema to the stuffy, traditional British wizarding society. The young man had been born in New Mexico and studied in Massachusetts under the brutal Potion Master Timothy Shaw, who Snape knew personally from international potions conferences. Shaw had written a rather brief recommendation letter for Thompson, lamenting the fact that the young man had decided to leave his labs for a "ridiculous quest to unearth mythical potions". In the same line, Shaw argued that Snape would be nothing but a "blind baboon" to not accept the exceptional young man.

 _He neglected to state that the boy was absolutely off his cauldron!_

"Would you like a cup of coffee or some of that nasty tea you Brits seem to like?" Thompson asked with an untypical serious look on his face.

"No, thank you," Snape said briskly, ignoring the blatant cultural insult and gathering the applications for ten further apprentice candidates to be assessed later on.

Although there was no limit to the number of apprentices a Potion Master could take on, most rarely took on more than one. It was a remnant of the old guild system, and Snape could not disagree more with the out-of-date method. Having multiple, talented apprentices - or Master scholars - would allow for more contemporary research, a more cohesive community and a higher completion rate of exceptional potions. He figured, however, that he personally would not be able to oversee more than five apprentices a year due to the lectures he would hold, the two conferences he planned to host at Hogwarts and the need to be available for any assistance the apprentices might require.

He and his Head of Department colleagues would also be teaching the NEWT classes in their fields since that was where many of the most talented students ended up. The class would only be around ten students, but Snape knew that the number would increase with more students coming to Hogwarts and with his apprentices taking over the teaching of the lower years.

"Well, that's a shame," Thompson said with a sigh. Snape noted that the man never gave a report on his potion. Each apprentice was to brew a new, experimental potion of Snape's choosing, potions that would leave most Masters scratching their heads in confusion. None of the apprentices had approached him with noteworthy progress. "I wanted to see you spit it out after I told you that my potion is finished."

Snape's mouth dropped.

Thompson laughed like a maniac as he steered the dumbfounded Potions Master to his lab.

Once more, Snape had to marvel the comfortable and sterile labs his apprentices were breaking in. Each one had spacial expansion charms in place to make their interiors as large as Snape's old, personal lab in the dungeons. Four long counters of white marble took up the most space in the room. Since most journeyman-level potioneers were expected to brew up to three potions at once, yet rarely had the space for such, Snape knew the rooms would be the talk of the upcoming Spring Conference. There were ventilation spells, sterilization runes on the faucets that provided water, magic-dampening controls for the more volatile potions, and each counter had a containment bubble to keep the fumes of one cauldron from interacting with any others.

Even the glass panes of the walls held identification, containment, stabilization and ventilation runes, wards and spells aplenty - on both sides of the glass panes as an ultimate safety feature. Snape had been included in the testing of the glass. It was a Japanese creation for an American company that specialized in producing glass for viewing rooms in dueling competitions. The company had been excited to work with Hogwarts and Snape on this new type of glass for potion labs. Hogwarts and Snape would be given a percentage of the revenue after the patent was accepted, which made Harry very happy. Snape doubted that anything short of a dynamite explosion would break the glass.

To have _apprentices_ working in such a lab was unheard of. It was state-of-the-art at its best. Potion Masters around the world would give their appendages for a chance to brew there.

 _I should consider renting out labs for a fee. The more profit the Potions Department generates on it own, the fewer budget meetings I will have to sit through in the future._

"Here it is, milord!" Thompson said, bowing exuberantly and butchering the British accent, as they entered the containment bubble around one his counters.

Snape tied his hair with a swift, well-practiced wave of his wand and peered into the silver cauldron. Yellow and green swirls of liquid churned slowly, never truly mixing but definitely in harmonious interaction with one another.

 _The color is maybe a tick too neon considering the moonwood oil, but this is definitely Master quality!_ Under the circumstances, Snape knew he would not have been able to do much better.

The potion was a split potion, technically two potions in one. The procedure was the most difficult to manage, and Snape himself had only succeeded twice in his whole career. Magic was used to create a thin barrier between the two potions in the same cauldron. Most split potions required that the two halves interact briefly at certain moments in the brewing. If the two interacted for too much or too little time, or if one potion was not at the correct stage during the phase of interaction, the entire potion was usually ruined instantly. The potions necessitated constant brewing, perfect timing of each potion and the whole, and the finesse of a High Master - a Potions Master who employed and instructed other masters for research purposes.

"You do know what this means?" Snape murmured as he summoned an elf to provide them with a quill and some parchment.

"That I get to sleep for a week?" Thompson said, barely keeping the hope out of his voice. Snape took a quick look at the man's face and tired appearance.

"No," Snape deadpanned slowly, dipping the empty quill into the potion. "If this works, you will have to write up your findings and observations. Oh, and begin preparing a research paper on how you recreated and completed _High Master Salazar Slytherin_ 's final work in _two-weeks' time_."

If he weren't so busy pricking his finger to place a drop of blood on the parchment, Snape would have noticed the man's mouth dangling comically. Snape placed the saturated quill onto the drop of blood on the parchment and nearly fainted from shock as the quill began to move.

"Sa-salazar Slytherin?" Thompson stuttered as he stumbled to his work desk in a cozy corner of the room and gathered his notes. "'Potion translated from Parseltongue by Lord Henry James Potter'," he read aloud. "... holy fuck!"

Snape snorted at the vulgar exclamation. Thompson, despite his uncouth mouth and manners, was definitely growing on him. He could tell that the man loved potions. He brewed with such a passion that Snape was left breathless sometimes by his talented results.

As the quill stopped writing, its glow disappeared and it dropped lifelessly to the counter, Snape held up the parchment with a shaking hand.

The top of the read his name - _Severus Tobias Snape, Lord Apparent of House Prince_ \- and what followed was a complete genealogy of his family going back five generations.

Slytherin, according to the few notes Harry had had the time to translate for him, had not trusted the Goblins to perform such an important ritual for wizards. He did not trust the Goblins not to sell the information to rivaling wizard clans so that they could end each other and leave their fortunes inevitably in Goblin possession. _Apparently, his suspicions were justified since the Goblin Rebellion 237 years after his death had revolved around the same issue._

The Goblins' response had been only to make the service unbelievably expensive and thus available to only a few. That was their procedure to the current day, leaving modest wizards like Snape unable to see their genealogy without paying an arm and a leg. _One page of genealogy costs the same as my yearly wage - my old wage!_

And yet, he stood there with three pages. _All because of one brilliant potioneer!_

"Please inform the others that you have completed your potion. You may celebrate _responsibly_. I hear Rosmerta has taken a liking to you, and I do not wish to deprive her of your presence. I will set up a meeting with Lord Potter so you can present it to him. In the meantime, you should research Goblin-Wizarding law and history regarding Genealogy. We don't want to cause the next Goblin Rebellion!" Snape said as he darted out of the lab, parchment clutched in his hand. He failed to notice the young man fainting behind him.

He was thankful that Harry insisted that all Masters' facilities be on the first floor, close to the remodeled Hospital Wing since that meant a shortened trip to his destination: the new library wing. Even without Poppy's maternal presence, the Hospital Wing was positioning itself as a feeder for St. Mungo's and internationally acclaimed Healer programs with its Healer curriculum and under its new leadership, Head Healer Andromeda Tonks.

Harry's logic was sound. Most of Snape's apprentices would be working on dangerous potions, especially those who would be recreating potions from the treasure trove of scrolls and notes Harry and Snape had discovered during their trip to render the basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets. When Harry had pushed the scrolls in Greek, Coptic, Gaulish and Latin into Snape's arms and said, "Have fun! You are the scholar, not me!", it had taken all of Snape's control not to cry. Harry took it upon himself to translate the parseltongue as his schedule permitted.

Pomona, who had fainted at the sight of the extraordinarily well-preserved specimen of extinct Crying Pansies, Woolly-stalked Begonias, Legum Trees and even a Saint Helena Olive Tree among others in a sealed lab in the Chamber, had called on her apprentices and her assistant, Neville Longbottom to research the plants and cultivate them. With _seven_ new greenhouses being built to house the plants of four of the five climate categories, and three for priceless plants like the ones from the Chamber, Pomona had much on her hands. Snape was sure the woman had never been happier.

As he passed by the Great Hall, Snape could only shake his head in disbelief.

To say that the room had been renovated would be a serious understatement. The room had been expanded. Harry had estimated that the number of people being housed at Hogwarts would double, if not triple over the next years with apprentices, new instructors, and _all_ individuals with magic (including mixed-breed children and adults who had been previously denied by Albus, the Ministry or fearful parents).

The dining hall _s_ were a sight to behold. Instead of remodeling or changing the beautiful, original architecture, Harry merely instructed the builders to replicate the Great Hall. The walls in between the three halls were replaced with grand columns. The Heads of Departments would eat on a balcony-like platform that led out onto the second floor of Hogwarts, where the Heads of Departments also had their offices.

With more students and residents, more tables had been added. Filius mentioned working on a sound dampening field around all of the tables. The thought of having to hear over a thousand gibbering students three times a day had made him nauseous. He was happy that Filius found the time to create the field between his travels to all corners of the world to meet with potential apprentices, professors and guest speakers for his department's Enchanting and Dueling classes. Filius was also recruiting as Deputy Headmaster for the Transfiguration Department's Animagic and Animation classes, and for esoteric magics like Warding, Spell Crafting, geomagic, elemental magic and magics native to other cultures and creatures. If the whispered gossiping of Minerva and Ms. Granger was to be believed, Albus would be returning to teach the very position that made him a legend in both Potions and Transfiguration subjects.

Snape wondered briefly why and how Ms. Granger had managed that feat. The usually garrulous girl was rather tight-lipped about Dumbledore.

Minerva was too busy overseeing the vast budget for the school, the changes being made to the school, and the hiring process to care about Albus. As Headmistress, she was luckily only required to sit on the panel for professor candidates who already passed two phases of interviews - one interview with the Head and an apprentice of their prospective department and one interview with the Head and a knowledgeable apprentice of a separate department. It was Minerva herself who came up with the rather clever system.

"Hello, Severus!" Remus Lupin, Head of the Defensive and Offensive Magic Department - renamed at Harry's behest, greeted him from the entrance of the library. _Of course Black and the eldest Weasley are in tow._ Snape had yet to see one of the men without the others close by.

"Amazing isn't it?" Black said gestured like a child in a sugar quill shop to the library and the castle in general. "Harry is really outdoing himself with the changes here!"

"Luckily, he's not doing it alone! Merlin forbid he would have to organize it all himself." Lupin shuffled a stack of papers in his hand which Snape recognized as the official request forms Harry had provided to each Department Head for equipping their departments.

 _Ah, that reminds me. I have to turn in the request forms for a golden cauldron. If Apprentice Thompson is as good as I expect him to be, we will need it for his next assignment._

Lupin suddenly gave Snape a small conspiratorial grin and threw the elder Weasley a brief look of - what Snape suspected to be - warning. "Bill, why don't you help me go over the Defense learning plans?"

"But-." The redhead seemed more confused by the idea than Black, but Snape saw right through the subterfuge in leaving him alone with Black.

Before the redhead could say another word, Remus was pulling the man down the hall and was already engaging him in a one-sided conversation.

"Manipulative wolf," Black seemed to murmur to himself.

"Indeed," Snape said, causing Black to jump slightly. _Could he have already forgotten that I am also here?_ He wouldn't put it past the former Azkaban resident to lose his spacial awareness. _Merlin only knows what the place did to his already stunted mental growth._

Black ran a hand in exasperation through his hair. The confidence with which Black had done the same gesture to ensnare the hearts of many girls and boys during their schooldays was gone and replaced with an uncomfortable uncertainty.

"Look Sna- Severus," Black began in a nervous tone. "I wanted to apologize for… well, everything! I was definitely a pissant to you in our youth, and I was horrible." Black took a deep breath and held up a hand to halt Snape's inevitable, biting response to the nearly two decades too late apology.

"My great-aunt Cassiopeia forced me to do a rigorous mind healing regime at St Mungo's before I can take over the Black Lordship. I didn't want to see how despicable I was, especially to you, but they forced me." He gave a bitter laugh. "They forced me to realize how idiotic we were with our schoolboy rivalry-."

"Which you started and perpetuated." Snape snarled.

Black flinched painfully. "I know." He said quietly.

Snape bite his tongue, for the first time in many years. There was an uncomfortable pause that neither seemed interested in filling.

"Have you seen the new potion facilities?" Snape asked suddenly yet smoothly.

Black shook his head in confusion. "Aren't they still in the dungeons?"

Without warning, Snape launched into a thorough description of everything that he could think of about the new labs. He turned swiftly to head back in the direction from whence he came. Black stumbled to catch up with him.

"Wait, so does this mean you accept my apology?" Black asked as they walked past the Great Halls.

Without breaking stride, Snape said, "Don't make me neuter you, Black," and promptly ignored the insane giggles from the man beside him.

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* * *

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The weather seemed to be in mourning just like the Potters.

Virgil Orville Potter passed away in the company of his brothers and sisters - two of whom flooed in just to see him before his time came. He uttered his last words "I'm coming, Sarah" just as the clock struck midnight on December 26, 1995, almost a decade after his wife, Sarah Potter née Elisabeth de Coronó, had passed away.

And since then, it rained.

Harry felt nothing but guilt, and no kind words or sympathetic hugs lessened the fact that Uncle Virgil had taken a curse meant for Harry. The range of emotions was written on his face and in every interaction he had after being released from St. Mungo's the day his Uncle Virgil passed away.

In an unexpected show of camaraderie, Hermione and Henriette teamed up to handle the funeral ritual preparations and the funeral pyre. It was clear to all the neither wanted anything to do with the other. They avoided each other like the plague, but they made a formidable team.

 _I wonder how Hermione will react when she learns that Henriette was responsible for the attack on Hogwarts in November._ Even now, they stood as far away from each other as physically allowed near Uncle Virgil's pyre, cloaked in pure white ritual robes.

According to the obviously shaken Uncle Orville, it was his father's wish to be buried with his dear Sarah in the cemetery near Potter House in Melbourne. The fact that it was _his_ son - currently locked in the manor dungeons - who brought the tragedy upon the family, Orville never acknowledged. When FC produced a memory of his father where Uncle Virgil stated that he wished for both he and Sarah to have a ritual pyre and to be placed in the Potter Mausoleum, Orville seemed to bitterly disappear into the shadows.

Harry could not understand what his cousin had wanted to accomplish with the lie. Orville currently stood on the outskirts of the large group of mourners.

Harry shook the peppering rain and running tears from his eyes. He tried to focus on the ritual taking place.

He would be forever grateful to Hermione and Henriette for taking on the role of priestesses for the Ritual of Eternal Life*. He was barely able to keep himself from bolting from the cemetery. When Hermione told him yesterday that she had also had his parents' remains moved from the cemetery in Godric's Hollow, he had turned into a bawling mess.

The two beautiful women stood strong beside the chanting High Priest, a local druid, dressed in vibrant, purified robes for the Olde ritual. Harry was basically leaning on FC in order to remain standing near the altar. He only just barely managed to tear his eyes away from Uncle Virgil's serene face at the beginning of the ritual.

It just _hurt_.

His mind wandered from the droning of the druid in charge of the ceremony.

He had thrown himself into his work, Family Matters and finances the days following the attack. Jonas' manipulation of the wards, though minuscule, forced him to take the protection of his family more earnestly. He spent three time-turns on looking through the Potter and Black grimoires for additional wards to have FC apply to the Potter properties. He would have to practice and do the Black spells himself since FC was not connected to the Blacks - Harry respected the restriction of Family spells to members of that Family, despite Hermione's protests.

A burst of fire yanked him out of his thoughts. Harry noticed the druid holding his wand and directing the fire.

The pyre burned a brilliant white before a small explosion of magic rocked them all. One by one they all lit their wands in farewell to a great man whose time had come too soon.

So Harry's tears ran cold as the magic of the ritual settled around him. His Uncle Virgil should not have had to jump in front of a curse meant for him. The Death Eaters and their master had to go; immediately. _Uncle's sacrifice - my parents' sacrifice - will not be in vain._

Harry approached the glowing urn on the altar and gave a deep bow before sweeping from the funeral with his magic crackling around him like a penumbra of rechanneled rage and determination. As he swept from the cemetery, he caught the eye of several family members whose magic matched the temperate of his own. He nodded to FC, Milton and few others. The Potters were going to end this war… soon.

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* * *

AN: Many thanks to my awesome beta **Marc the Unruly** for helping with some character building/personalities. He and I have also worked on re-editing all of the chapters thus far, so feel free to re-read if you want!

We have one more main chapter to go, and it should be... explosive and longer than this chapter, if you can believe it. It will also take me some time to wrap up everything. The next chapter should be written by the end of this month. Do you have any food for my muse? Send me a message!

* Please see Dumbledore's discussion on the ritual Chapter 11.


	18. Chapter 18: The Power of the Potters

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 **Chapter** **Eighteen: The Power of the Potters**

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 _It had been a tiring day for Ronald Weasley. He had had two separate book signings for his newest publication and more press conferences than one person should have to ever suffer through._

It's times like these that I do not envy Potter _, he thought with a mental grimace._

 _After defeating He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named nearly a decade ago, Potter's fame had soared so high that he – according to the one interview he gave to Penelope Clearwater in the aftermath of the Last Battle – had secluded himself in his abnormally large manor with his family. He left only for meetings with other celebrities, politicians, and leaders of various fields._

 _The Prophet had nearly changed the name of their newspaper to "Potter-Watch" - if the rumors in Diagon Alley's corporate section were to be believed. Regardless of the possible name change, the reporters had written about anything they could dig up on the elusive Potters. The public ate up everything it read hungrily. Even his own mother, whose hatred of Sirius Black and Harry Potter was legendary after the tiara debacle that notorious day at Grimmauld Place, swore that Potter was off in Africa fighting evil desert sorcerers for the betterment of the world._

 _Ron had been_ graced _by his former best friend's presence only once, at an invite-only gala for the richest and most powerful in the country two years ago at one of the Potter houses. Potter Manor itself had become a thing of modern legends since Potter restricted access to the property for all but loved ones and his closest friends, of which Ron was no longer either._

 _Ron was sure the only reason for his invitation to the small gala was the groundbreaking Potions research he had pioneered in triple-split brewing. Potter barely deigned to congratulate him or shake the hand of his former best mate._

Not like I wanted to touch the slimy bastard anyway _._

 _With a hopeful look at his diamond-studded watch, Ron bit back a groan. He was going to be late to his own Order of Merlin ceremony if he didn't hurry home to change and eat._

 _His lifestyle might have evolved over the course of the years, but Ron still never missed a meal._

 _With long steps, he reached the nearest Apparition point in little to no time. One well-practiced twirl later, and he found himself standing in front of the house on his elegant and sprawling estate. The white-washed woods of the main house with their Tudor feel were surrounded by 50 acres including a croquet lawn with a summer house, an apple orchard, a small lake and a folly._

 _A small wave of satisfaction rolled through him as he subconsciously compared his new home to the Burrow and to the residences of his siblings._

 _Although he would never want to replace his childhood home, he was quite proud of having worked hard enough to earn the two-floor manor and surrounding lands._

 _He knew he was the envy of all of his siblings, even though their career successes had quite often preceded and overshadowed his own. Since he had no chance of receiving the Prewitt Headship due to his gender, he had approached his father about petitioning for the Weasley Lordship. The last Lord Weasley had been his father's grandfather, and Ron had been certain that the Lordship – if the petition were even accepted by the Wizengamot - would go to Bill or Charlie._

 _Therefore, he had been pleasantly surprised when the wise patriarch of their family agreed with him. "If anyone has a chance to reinstate the Family in the Wizengamot, Ronald, it will be you!" His father had even taken care of the paperwork._

 _Ron truly looked forward to raising a family in the new Weasley Manor._

 _Unfortunately, no woman managed to stay with him for more than a few weeks. They all usually parted ways due to personality differences, his mother's interference or because he still compared every woman in his life to the only woman he had ever wanted._

 _He immediately shook the thought of Hermione Potter née Granger viciously out of his head. There was no chance in hell of that happening, and it made little sense to even dwell on it._

 _"_ _Master Weasley!" The squeaky voices of his house-elves enthusiastically greeted him, as they did every time they opened his heavy mahogany doors for him._

 _Two of his five house elves had removed his traveling cloak before he had even noticed. His nose caught the delicious smell of steak and ale pie, and his stomach forced him to follow it._

 _His Goblin wards - expensive but a Merlin-send beyond belief - suddenly alerted him to someone not looking to harm him or already keyed into the wards apparating onto his property. He sighed; food would have to wait._

No, I'm hungry. They can wait. It's probably a pesky reporter anyway.

 _His stomach growled in agreement, and Ron continued his trek to his extravagant dining hall. He would deal with his guest afterward._

 _"_ _Ron." A soft, melodious voice called out from his entrance hall just as he reached the door to his kitchen._

 _Not even considering how his guest got past his wards, his heart began pounding none too gently in his chest. He knew that voice very well. He turned to see his beautiful, bushy-haired friend of many years standing awkwardly at his door._

 _The years had treated Hermione well. Most witches aged gracefully. Hermione had somehow gotten even more beautiful._

Potter does not deserve such a beauty as his wife!

 _Every Merlin-crafted curve of her perfect figure was accentuated by pale blue robes. The food was quickly forgotten as his eyes drank in the sight of the angel in his house._

 _"_ _Hermione… what are you doing here?" His words came out with barely concealed lust._

 _He noticed then the tracks of tears on her face. "I need you." She whispered, her eyes filled with a want that Ron had always longed to see directed at him._

 _His brain barely stopped him from sweeping her off her feet and into his bed._

 _"_ _B-but Potter?" He stuttered as she slowly made her way to him. Her magic and perfume overwhelmed him so completely. Before he could process her response, she was upon him._

 _"_ _I left him. You were always the one I wanted." She whispered. "You are ten times the man he could ever be." Her hands were suddenly on his face, under his shirt... and in his pants. "Yes," she all but purred, "definitely ten times the man."_

 _Ron didn't notice his control disappear._

 _"_ _Please take me." She murmured._

 _And he did._

 _Clothes were discarded with abandon. Ron heard his shirt rip as Hermione tore it off his muscular chest. She fisted him through his jeans._

 _Ron wasn't sure how they got to his bed, but he managed to rip off her dress and knickers in one sweep while unbuttoning his pants and kissing her simultaneously._

 _He entered her with one thrust and moaned out loud as she groaned and whimpered in pleasure beneath him._

 _She moaned only one word as he found his rhythm of thrusting and pulling out of her. "Big..."_

 _Ron felt as if he were in his wildest dream._

 _"_ _Yes." He said simply. Whether that was in response to her or just a general contentedness from the situation, he did not know._

 _Their horizontal dance left sweat dripping off both of their bodies. His thrusting was wild, and the mewling noises from her mouth drove him to move deeper and faster into her. Ron felt a pressure building in his loins. He knew it would not be much longer before he released into her._

 _Hermione's orgasm came as a surprise to him. Her velvet walls clenched around him to an unbelievable degree._

 _"_ _Hermione!" He groaned loudly as he came._

 _With her head thrown back, goosebumps covering her entire body and with the erratic rise and fall of her voluptuous breasts, Ron felt his spent member twitch excitedly with the knowledge that it had brought such ecstasy to such a beauty._

 _BOOM_

 _Suddenly, the world seemed to shake around them. Ron, still fully sheathed in Hermione, turned around to see a glowing demon walk through the rubble that used to be his bedroom wall._

 _Harry._

 _"_ _Harry! Harry, I-." Ron's feeble excuse was cut off by a roar of rage._

 _Ron heard Hermione scream hysterically as a blast of magic hit him in the head. With surprise etched on his face, Ron saw the room tumble around him and watched from the other side of the room as his headless body jerked with blood streaming in all directions before it collapsed on top of a shrieking Hermione..._

"RON!" The redhead heard suddenly.

"He's too far gone." A familiar voice said. "He sounded like he was being tortured."

Another familiar voice laughed. "It sounds like Harry did a number on him even in his sleep."

There was a small pause in the conversation and rustling around him.

"If he was dreaming about what I think he was, then he deserved everything he got. Morgana… Could you imagine what Harry would do if heard that his former best-friend was having wet dreams about his girl?"

 _A dream? Was it only a dream?_ Ron shook the sleep from his head and slowly opened his eyes. It had all felt so real.

"If Wigston hadn't threatened me with suspension, I would end him for disrupting my sleep. Covered in piss or not." Ron noticed Neville glaring at him from one side of his bed as if he had insulted his grandmother _and_ his parents.

"Well, it looks like lover boy is awake at last," Dean said, clearing his throat and pulling Neville's attention from the prone redhead. "Maybe the moaning and screaming will be over for the night." He grumbled, heading back to his bed in the corner of the room.

Seamus threw an exasperated look at the window where the sun was slowly rising. "I think I'll just head down for an early breakfast. We might as well get a head start on this week's homework."

Neville growled something inaudible that had Seamus laughing on their way to the showers.

"It's not my fault you decided to take like ten of the new classes! I'm at my wit's end with just two!" Seamus exclaimed with a snort of laughter.

"I wanted Wizarding Politics, Law and Economics, Magical History, and Magical Traditions and Etiquette for my Lordship. Geomagic and Advanced Herbology were prerequisites for my Geomagic and Herbology Masteries."

Ron shuddered. He had only taken the required courses. He had been overwhelmed in January at the prospect of over twenty new courses, some met once or twice a week. It was now February, and Ron had not regretted his decision. Everyone but him was drowning in homework.

 _Most courses won't even count towards the OWLs! What's the point of increasing my workload during OWLs_ and _for no credit!_

He was sure Hermione would have taken everything though.

"You're in my weekly Technomancy course too!" Dean reminded Neville as he too slowly made his way to the showers, probably figuring that trying to get more sleep would be futile.

Seamus snorted loudly from the bathroom. "Only because Nev here wants to use the knowledge of how muggl- non-mags grow plants with light bulbs and sprinklers in his own greenhouses! What a green nerd."

Neville apparently hit Seamus, judging by the sound of a wet towel meeting skin and Seamus' yelp.

Ron ignored the friendly banter - although he missed it, and not being an outsider within his own cohort, terribly - and concentrated on his difficult situation. Like Neville said, he had wet himself. He closed his eyes as he took a few calming breaths.

No self-respecting 15 - _almost 16_ \- year-old pissed himself. He knew the boys would never let him live it down.

Not remembering any housekeeping spells to help him clean up, and not seeing any reason to remind the guys of his _little accident_ , Ron simply waited until all three had left for an early breakfast before he went to shower. He left the wet bedding for the elves to take care of.

As he made his way through the Common Room, his twin brothers made small, pissing noises between their teeth as he passed them. Ron shuddered at the reaming and pranks the two must have in store for him, but he straightened his back, squared his shoulders and made his way through the portrait hole despite their piercing giggles behind his back.

There were now more people in the hallways than ever before, and Ron found it fairly easy to blend in with the crowd and remain unnoticed.

With the Mastery students, the extra teachers, teacher assistants, and the new Heads of Houses, Hogwarts seemed much fuller, busier. Ron had the feeling that there were even more students than there had been before the break. There were definitely more students around his age.

 _Where did they all come from?_

Even the new tables in the Great Halls were usually filled to the brink of being overcrowded during each meal.

As he made his way down the staircases to the Great Halls, he noticed the portraits speaking to each other in excited whispers. There was also more chattering than usual in the hallways as well. People were walking in groups, huddled over one or more newspapers. Hoping news of his nightmare episode hadn't made its rounds already, he ignored the activity around him.

As he made his way through the new Champion's Hall and passed by the marble bust of Cedric Diggory by the Great Halls, the bell rang. _Is it first period already?_

Ron groaned as his stomach growled in protest. He had never missed a meal!

More than a bit depressed, he merely turned and made his way towards the new Charms wing.

"Mr. Weasley! Mr. Weasley!" Ron groaned aloud once more. He had forgotten that it was Thursday, and he had a meeting for career advice with the new Head of Gryffindor in his first period today.

The beautiful, brown-haired muggleborn Violet Wigston had taken over the Head of Gryffindor duties from McGonagall and planned to have meetings with each student three or more times a semester to go over their career decisions, requirements, and goals in addition to school-related matters like notes, extracurriculars, and feedback from professors. She also offered muggle and magical classes on Mind Magic which were apparently well-attended by the male population and well-liked by all. Ron was still astonished that the muggles had Mind Magic even though they called it psycho-something.

"Mr. Weasley, with classes canceled for the day, I believe we can move our appointment to a different time." The young woman said, out of breath and clutching the Grand Staircase while trying to catch her breath. "I will… I will owl you with a new appointment once everything has settled."

"Cancelled?" He repeated in shock. He noticed suddenly that most of the students in the hallway were heading in all directions, some even heading out into the cold February weather, or merely forming circles to discuss something.

Wigston regarded him in shock. "You haven't heard the news?"

As Ron shook his head, she thrust a well-worn and fairly heavy newspaper at him.

He read the titles and instantly understood the excitement around him.

 **THE BOY-WHO-TRIUMPHED!**

 **TOM RIDDLE DEFEATED FOR GOOD!**

 **THE POTTERS GO TO WAR! Exclusive eye-witness accounts from the Final Battle!**

Below the flashing titles of the Daily Prophet was a photo of a glowing and furious-looking Harry swinging a broadsword as if he had been born with it and beheading a surprised, snake-like man with one swipe.

Ron swallowed thickly as he remembered his dream.

"Amazing, isn't it!? It happened yesterday, apparently, and the Potter Family…"

Ron tuned the woman out as he skimmed the articles on the battle, the ferociousness of the Potters, and the many photos of the end of the battle after the large magical discharges had been investigated by the Aurors and their usual journalist followers.

 _Maybe I do have some form of Sight... I need to speak with Firenze._

With shaking fingers, Ron turned the page to read more about the Final Battle and the exploits of the Potters from eyewitnesses in the Ministry of Magic and the reporters who followed them. Probably noticing the one-sided conversation, Wigston departed after a while, leaving Ron, once more, alone in the middle of the busy hall.

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* * *

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 _The day prior…_

When Harry Potter calls you for a war council, you come. Bill, however, had never expected the war council to consist of so many people. Approximately fifty adult Potters of various ages were gearing up for their upcoming battle. Bill could feel the fury and determination in the air.

The bloodthirst of the Potters ran deeper than anyone would have expected.

You-Know-Who had killed hundreds of people, ended more Lines than one could probably count, yet no family had pulled together like this as one to revenge their lost ones.

Both of his families - the Prewitts and the Weasleys - had both lost many loved ones to the Dark Lord, but neither family had gathered and declared.

Bill's grandmother Lucretia Prewitt née Black had mentioned in passing to him that Potter had attended the Black Family Gathering as the only named, male heir a month prior. And according to Narcissa Malfoy, who his brother Charlie was apparently getting intimately close to, Potter had not needed to ask the Blacks for their wands in ridding the world of the man that had thinned their once numerous House to two non-Head Line heirs, an unwilling Heir Black, and a few elderly witches and wizards.

The Blacks had already cast their lot in with Potter and immediately offered their assistance to the Potters, but Potter had apparently refused to accept more than their blessings and their permission to use Black Family Magic if necessary.

Bill wondered briefly if that had been a clever decision.

 _We will need all the wands we can get if the whispers of mercenaries were correct!_

Potter said he had good reasons for it, but a group of fewer than one hundred wizards could not have any chance against an army of five times that size.

Bill had nearly thrown up when he heard that nearly four hundred mercenaries were coming in from all over the world to support You-Know-Who.

As he looked around at the people - mostly Potters, although Sirius, Mad-Eye Moody, and Severus were also present - he saw that some were putting on the ominous-looking black robes that Potter and Potter's cousin had worn in the attack on Riddle Manor, setting up communication _spitsets_ on their heads and speaking to one another in low tones. He wondered briefly if he was the only one having second thoughts about the seemingly impossible mission.

 _Dumbledore may have asked us to do a lot of dangerous things, more than were probably necessary, but at least he never asked us to go on death-defying missions!_

A tiny voice in the back of his head whispered, _maybe that is why the war has gone on for so long._

"Are you geared up?" Potter asked, already knowing the answer and thus summoned Bill a set of robes.

Bill hesitated. He definitely remembered Potter wearing something similar during their last mission and could remember a few details of the cloak. _But, is this all Potter has in his arsenal?_

"Are we - Will the cloak be the _only_ protection we have?"

He wondered if Potter would see his question as a sign of subordination and remove him from the mission. He even, briefly, considered purposely antagonizing the teen to get kicked off the fatal mission.

"Yeah, what's with the funny dresses and shit?" One of Potter's closest blood relatives - judging by the similar bone structure - asked with a jarring, Yankee accent.

There were few laughs.

Everyone seemed to be wondering the same - if not something similar - or were too focused to notice the question.

"There is no better time than the present to go over the plan for today," Potter said with a disarming smile at his cousin. Bill took the cloak and put it on as Potter turned away from him.

Bill tuned out the following introduction seminar for the cloaks and spitsets. He had used both with varying degrees of success when they had targeted Riddle Manor. He was still amazed by the teen's - _if one can still call him that with his liberal use of Time Magik_ \- resolve and leadership.

Charlie was head over heels impressed with Potter, and Bill was certain that some of it had rubbed off on him. The rescued dragons were flat out refusing to leave the refuge Potter had provided for them since the large island was uncharted and hidden to both magical and muggle eyes. Food was there aplenty, and the dragons had already begun building nests and digging holes in the hillsides to provide themselves and their progeny with shelter from the weather.

With his brother being the most experienced dragon handler on site, Charlie was quickly put in charge of the secret sanctuary with a rather generous salary and budget by Potter. His brother's opinion of the raven-haired lord had intensified.

 _"_ _I don't think I've ever met a genuinely generous person until Harry came along_ ," Charlie had gushed to Bill weeks prior.

Bill couldn't deny Potter's philanthropy, but he doubted that the teen - _man?_ \- did anything anymore without looking at least a few generations into the future. While he might not reap any immediate benefits, a score of healthy and willing dragons would bring future generations of Potters much esteem, more galleons than he or Charlie could possibly imagine and maybe even security. It was widely known that dragons protected anything they treasured to the last bone and scale, even people.

Bill shuddered at the thought of a possible army of defensive and angry dragons under the control of a single family or person.

 _There is a reason why the ICW oversees all dragon reserves!_

Watching Potter instruct the others on how to properly use the cloaks and headsets only reinforced the notion that there was a lot more to Potter - and the Potters in general - than the world seemed to know. Luckily, the Potters seemed to value the "live and let live" motto of the Grey Families.

 _Merlin forbid a Dark Potter arises…_

"You might want to pay attention now," a deep voice said from behind him, thoroughly startling him out of his thoughts. Sirius stood beside him with a serious stance and a small, lopsided grin.

"I was!" Bill huffed cheerily and hoped the older man couldn't see the red in his cheeks.

Sirius gave a small bark of laughter before turning his attention fully to his godson.

Bill slowly released a breath he had been holding while Sirius' gray eyes had bored into his own. _Those eyes…_

Using all of the Occlumency techniques from his cursebreaker training, he quickly managed to end that thought before it had the opportunity to settle in his head. His mental shields went up so quickly that he swayed slightly on his feet.

He caught himself on a nearby chair and managed to recuperate fast. Potter was in the middle of splitting the group into smaller groups with specific tasks.

"- form the perimeter of the phalanx." _Phalanx_? Bill apparently had missed much more than he originally thought. His developed Occlumency picked up Potter's last words and triggered memories on the origins of the Potters.

Specifically, one of the lessons in pureblood history with his father shot to the forefront of his mind. His father, who - despite being deemed a "blood-traitor" - had continued the Weasley tradition of orally passing on the stories of the Houses that House Weasley had married into to the eldest son. One of those Houses in the fifteenth century had been the newly ennobled Potters.

 _"_ _The Potters are a powerful, proud and privileged bunch." His father had said to the eight-year-old Bill over a game of chess. Bill wondered in a brief, omniscient retrospection if the alliteration had been intentional. "Leopold Potter - The First Potter - was an example of all three, but he had not been the "first Potter" as the history books state. The Potters, though with other names, have drawn their lineage back through ancient times. I don't know all the details, but it was passed on to our family that the Potter magic dates back to Ancient Times."_

 _"As one story goes: an evil presence swept through the then Persia bringing misery and destruction around 300 years before time was rewound. Bersuss was the name of the evil wizard. He gathered an army of nearly five thousand, devoted magic users. And at that time, there couldn't have been more than fifteen thousand wizards and witches worldwide! Bersuss, fascinated with the recent exploits of the muggle king, Alexander III of Macedon, believed that the Oracle of Siwa Oasis - a muggle Seer of sorts in Ancient Egypt - who had prophesied Alexander's greatness just days before should also declare him - Bersuss - as the universal ruler of magic."_

 _Bill remembered his father leaning back from the table, lost in thought. "Bersuss was refused an audience with the muggle seer, who was still recovering from Alexander III's visit. Rather than attacking the Oracle, which many believed would bring the wrath of the gods upon them, Bersuss cut off the head of a person per day of refusal. He mistakenly drew his victims from a local village which housed some nomadic forefathers of the Potters and thus killed a few members of their family before the Potters fought back. Bersuss learned then what many know instinctively now: no army can withstand the fury of vengeful Potters."_

 _"_ _The wizard Amasis, son of Eucharios the potter, gathered his family and launched an attack on Bersuss and his army of five thousand. The family of fifty wizards, squibs and muggles, miraculously drove the larger army back!"_

 _"_ _How, papa?" Bill had asked, wide-eyed. Their chess game was long forgotten, but his father had probably distracted him to keep from losing again to his rather gifted son…_

Hindsight is spectacular _, Bill grumbled mentally._

 _His father had given him a rather confused look. "It… it is unclear. Most believe that the Potters have a strong connection to Magik. My father told me that even the Macedonian kings caught wind of the Potters' methods and used them. A phalanx or something of that sort. No one not of direct Potter lineage knows exactly though. Maybe the knowledge of the magic has been lost to the Potters as well. The most important thing to remember here is that Potters are protective of their own, and that their Family Magik, whatever its scope and origin, can push back armies a hundred times larger than their own."_

"Bill!?" Sirius said, shaking Bill out of his thoughts.

Bill let up his Occlumency shields slightly, realizing immediately why he had gone so deep into contemplation. He rarely had his walls up so tight and only when he needed to review his memories in great detail.

"Sorry. I had my shields up too strong." He said rubbing his eyes.

The room had emptied of all but him and Sirius.

 _Did I miss the mission?_

"Come on. Everyone is waiting for you in the entrance hall. I'll explain to you what your duties will be. I never knew my little Prongs. Jr. was such a strategist!" Sirius said, slowly wrapping an arm around Bill's shoulder to lead him to where the others were waiting.

Bill forced back a shiver as Sirius' fingers slid over his neck.

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* * *

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Harry was nervous. His mouth moved confidently as he laid out the objectives of the mission and the duties of each group, but his mind swirled furiously around a different topic.

Over the course of the last two weeks, FC had locked himself in the Lord's Study with Harry to go over the intelligence they had received on snakeface's offshore recruiting and to come up with action plans. Two covens of vampires of a minor Russian clan, a few packs of werewolves from France and Germany, and a few hundred paid mercenaries from across the globe had joined forces with the dark wizard. FC speculated briefly where Voldemort had received the funds to support an army of that size, but Harry chalked it up to hidden stores of galleons.

More important to Harry was how they would end the bastard who had harmed their family and the world so much.

It was the portrait of his grandfather, Charles Potter, in the Lord's Study who suggested that the two consult some of the eldest Potter portraits and the Family Grimoire on Potter Family Magik, in particular, Battle Magic.

What followed were seemingly endless, time-turned days of research and planning. Harry's head still hurt when he considered the scores of books the two of them had devoured as they struggled to find hints in their family history on specific rituals or spells.

It had all been in vain.

 _Luckily, I walked through the Hall of Lords on my way to Mione._

A spontaneous chat with an ancestor, Linfred Potter, had Harry scrambling back into his study. The Potters were always a pretty powerful bunch and had come up with many powerful rituals and spells, but their expertise and strength were more so in their protection and defense rather than curses and offensive, Battle Magic.

Linfred, the father of Harry's namesake as well as their infamous ancestor, Hardwin Power, was rather patient in explaining what he knew about the so-called Potter Shield and Phalanx, which Harry and FC based most of their strategy on. The shield was pretty simple yet seemingly impenetrable to anything except the Unforgivables possibly. Linfred - or Grandpa Linny, as he preferred to be called - showed great interest in the magics behind the spell and even joined Charles Potter, _his_ great-grandson, in his portrait to monitor their progress with the rather ancient spell.

"The Potter Shield is basically a physical representation of our Family Magik," Harry heard his voice confidently explain to the crowd. "Therefore, those of us with the strongest connection to our Family Magik - including FC and myself - will be on the front line. Our job is to keep the Shield up and the Phalanx strong. Behind us will be our 'Heavy-hitters'." He said, throwing a look at a group of cousins as well as Sirius and Mad-Eye Moody who all had grim, yet determined faces. "Your job is to take down anyone who attacks us head-on."

They all gave a quick nod.

"Will we be prosecuted for using spells of… darker nature?" Henriette spoke up from the other side of the room where a group of people stood. FC called them "the dissenters" since they objected to Harry's actions since Uncle Virgil's funeral.

The funeral had caused a small rift in the family, especially the Australian side. Some people - Henriette included - wanted Jonas and his father disowned. They followed Olde Form to the word, and there it was dictated that a betrayal that led to the death of a Potter deserved nothing less than banishment from the House. Harry believed also that Henriette wanted to see others punished harshly since she had been severely punished by Harry.

It surprised Harry how the sentiment had split the family, generally along the generational lines. Virgil's siblings and some of the elder generations were surprised by, but supportive of, Harry's decision to let the Family Magik be the judge in punishing Jonas. Aunt Gina and Uncles PH and LL seemed to find the punishment of excommunication without disownment fair and fitting.

Harry had the feeling that the older generations were more into sustaining their numbers from their experiences of being the _only_ Potters of their generation after the Great Fire.

There were even some from all generations and cadet branches who were angry with Harry for attending the Blacks' Gathering after the funeral and for not showing "more mourning" for Uncle Virgil's untimely passing. Harry had been implacable for days after that was revealed to him. It was in those days that Harry spent nearly every minute he could with Hermione to avoid the drama.

Harry's mind wandered to the true reason for his distracted mind as he responded absent-mindedly to Henriette's question.

Hermione's current condition left much to be said and also weighed heavily on his mind.

FC's mature reaction was to run around singing "Hermione's up the duff! Hermione's up the duff!" until Hermione turned him into a pig.

It should not have surprised anyone that Mione managed to teach herself N.E.W.T. level Transfiguration on her own in between everything else that was going on. She had been fascinated by the topic since he turned three of snakeface's servants into rats a few weeks prior.

Despite the numerous contraceptives they had used, everything still ended up exactly as they hadn't planned. FC - once he was returned to his human form - revealed that Family Magik most likely was behind the unexpected pregnancy. Much like with the connection between himself and Henriette last year, FC believed that Family Magik had stepped in to improve the survival of the Head Line.

The thought of magic inducing and influencing a pregnancy sent Hermione on another researching spree in the Manor Library. Harry didn't see his bushy-haired girlfriend for at least two days afterward, and he was sure that she also disappeared to escape having to see the man who had possibly ruined her life.

A pregnant lull in the conversation he was actively leading yanked Harry out of his thoughts.

He took a deep breath as he looked out at the sea of expectant faces. He was proud, motivated even, by the fierce determination that greeted him from all sides.

"It is a lot to ask, even of family," Harry said, his worn voice had long since taken on a throaty tone. "Regardless of your connection to the Potters, regardless of your age or feelings towards me, together we will remove this dark stain from history. This evil has haunted and destroyed our families, terrorized our youth and homes… it is time we put the snake bastard down for good!"

A loud cheer ripped through the crowd and shook the very foundations of the original Potter Hall.

"We fight not for ourselves but for our futures!" Harry yelled over the still cheering voices.

He waited a moment until the cheering died down before he spoke again.

"I know it is a lot to ask of you. If I could, I would face snake-face and his death nibbler army on my own just to keep any of your from fighting." He said softly, meaning every word he said. "Unfortunately, I can't. Hell, I was even forbidden from leaving the house alone by most of you!" He let the tense chatter and laughter that followed run its course. "Since I can't guarantee your safety, I see it as my duty to guarantee your survival.

"Each of you has been fitted with a special portkey that will activate on a voice command or if you are hit with a spell. I don't know how Hermione did it, but I've long since given up on trying to understand her brilliance." He smiled at his reddening girlfriend from across the room as many turned to applaud her.

After having learned of her condition, he had all but commanded her to oversee the medical ward with Snape and monitor the wards to the house in his absence. Neither of them found it odd that Hermione had an easier time managing the wards that Harry did, even though the two of them shared the duty. She did, however, rant at him for over-protecting her and ordering her about.

"The portkeys will also bring you here if you say 'home' or 'help'," Harry said, bringing everyone's attention back to him.

He stomach churned as he realized he had nothing else to say. The time had come.

"The first to portkey in will be our Snipers. Please use the robes and any spells you know to disguise yourselves and the others. The first flank will portkey in with our Heavy-hitters to knock on Tommy's door." Those mentioned nodded and began preparing themselves. "The second flank will portkey in with our Protectors moments afterward. We assume the wards will not have fallen by that time, so go in with your wands lit. Afterward, our last group - our Destroyers - will portkey in to take care of the hideout and any stragglers."

He forced nervousness out of his system while his eyes narrowed. "We will not hold back. We will not break. We will not take prisoners. We will show them how Potters fight!"

 _That was it_ , Harry thought as he caught Hermione's tearful eyes and her hidden message to come back home safely.

She looked every bit the Lady of the House and had even taken it upon herself to learn everything she could about the ways of their House. It had choked Harry up with deep emotion when he learned from his soon-to-be cousin Mauve about Hermione's secret lessons with her and some of his cousins, uncles, and aunts. She took her new position in the Family seriously, as she did with whatever she put her mind to. Should something happen to Harry, she knew it would fall to her to be strong and educate the son or daughter currently growing in her belly.

 _May Magik protect us all_ , Harry thought as he prepared to portkey out.

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* * *

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The weather on the soon-to-be battlefield was tantalizingly sunny and cheerful. Birds chirped and a soft, spring wind slowly chipped away at the frost that covered the surrounding grass and trees.

The first four Potters who portkeyed in barely made a sound. They quickly took out invisible brooms and made their way towards the small black dot in the distant, Riddle's hideout.

Harry had been clear that they were not to alert Riddle of their presence; that was the job of the Heavy-hitters. It was also the reason why the portkeys for the Snipers took them so far away from Riddle's hideout.

"I feel a proximity ward coming up." Feiro Potter, a blood-adopted son of Percival Hermann and Annabelle - or Mama Anna as their side of the family called their matriarch, said into his spitset to his blood brothers Amario and John (whose real name, Jothario, had had him teased much as a kid). It was their cousin Delphine, a daughter of Uncle Lester, however, who responded.

"You will wait before, non?" Her musical voice rang sweetly in their ears. It was the product of decades of refining her siren genes and enchantress magic.

"No. I mean, yes!" Feiro stuttered briefly. His brothers laughed briefly in the background. Even at the ripe age of 49 and after four decades of being endlessly teased, Feiro was still rendered a stuttering mess by his beautiful cousin.

Feiro growled back at his siblings. "We will circle quickly to see if we can feel a weak spot and take our posts."

"Aye aye captain!" His seconds-younger brothers called simultaneously into their spitsets. He rolled his eyes.

 _This is going to be a helluva adventure_ , he thought with a mental sigh.

As the third group of Snipers portkeyed in, they immediately followed their cousins toward the hideout. They could see the black robes of their eight fellow snipers but did not fly to them. Their duty was to quickly scope out a few good hideouts near where the Heavy-hitters would land so that they could watch their backs.

"Careful everyone, there are lethal wards up to two hundred feet around the manor." One of their numerous cousins said over the spitset.

"What the hell is that in _normal_ measurements?" One of the last Snipers to portkey in asked back angrily.

Someone giggled, but there was a pause as the seriousness of the question kicked in. It was absolutely necessary that they all understood each other perfectly. Small miscommunications could lead to fatal results.

"I don't know exactly, but I do know that 200 feet are less than 100 meters." Someone else said. "So, it's best to not go beyond 100 meters."

"Thanks! We should let the others - the Heavy-hitters? - know when they arrive. I don't know if they can hear us."

"We hear you loud and clear."

Just as the last of the Snipers settled in a tree near the gothic manor that Riddle was using for his hideout, a massive shift in magic was felt near the entrance of the property.

As one, around twenty or so Potters (and the few non-Potters on the mission) arrived together with their Lord Potter. And what a sight he was!

If there was ever any doubt that the armored, young lord could lead their family that doubt died at the sight of the battle-ready Henry James Potter. With his outstretched wand blurring with rapid movement and a dark glow of magic surrounding him, it was clear who was leading. Magic seemed to pick up around him, moving his robes and hair as one would imagine some mythical god to look. The most magic-sensitive of their group shivered at the intense concentration of magic he eluded.

"Merlin…" Someone murmured.

No time was wasted as the most powerful members of their family struck at the wards protecting their enemy. Like clockwork, a second, larger group portkeyed in while the attack on the wards caused an even larger displacement of magic to shake the very earth beneath their feet.

It took a moment before everyone realized that the attack on the wards was not making the ground shake, but their Lord Potter was. Each blood-related Potter felt the Family Magik roar to life in their very veins as a fiery red shield flared to life in a circle around the Phalanx.

The shield grew skyward into a dome of blood-fire before it turned transparent and snapped into place just as a figure cloaked in darkness appeared before the Heavy-hitters and sent out a wave of black magic in their direction.

There was an earsplitting boom as the dark magic was repelled off the shield and rocketed back in the direction of the castor. The figure in black shadows popped out of sight, allowing the dark magic to miss him and ricochet toward his own wards.

The wards crackled under the assault and their magical components, lines of crackling magic, were bared to all.

"POTTER!" With his roar of pure rage, Riddle reappeared before the Phalanx.

Spells rained down on him and the now visible wards to his manor as everyone followed Harry's lead.

There was a bustle of activity from the house as scores upon scores of people rushed from the large house to protect Riddle.

The Snipers held their fire. The Potter Shield was doing its job of letting their spells through and blocking those of their enemies (the Unforgiveables were being taken care of by the Protectors and their quick transfiguration work), and the Phalanx took one step forward as one toward their foe.

"Werewolves coming in from the right." Someone said over the spitset.

"Dear Merlin! They are fully transformed! How is that even possible?"

"Anything is possible with magic, fool!" FC growled into the spitset as he blasted three opponents with a spell that detached their torsos from their bodies.

Without pausing in holding the shield with one wand or casting spells at Riddle with another, Harry spoke, "Delphine. That's your cue!"

The beautiful woman instantly rose on an invisible broom into the air, opened her mouth and let loose a chord that made the very wind around them hold.

Delphine had not planned to have her first debut in England under such conditions. It should have been in a comfortable concert setting like her last performance in Austria. Siren magic was a much-begotten form of entertainment for wizards. Their songs held all of the enticement like those of the Veela without the overt and blinding seduction. The sole difference between the two subspecies of humans was the elemental aspect of their magic.

Veela made men burn with desire or just burn in general if they so desired. Fully trained sirens were sorceresses of water and air. The most powerful of them could change the perceptions of men by creating mirages by manipulating water particles in the air.

With most of the family aware of her maternal heritage, Delphine flew towards their enemies and began singing an Olde song of war. Some of the weak-minded among their opponents began screaming in fear as demonic creatures seemed to suddenly appear from within the ground to attack them.

The Snipers cut down the panicking troops with ease. With so much spellfire flying in all directions, Riddle's army could not see that their attack was coming from above. Some of the paid wands even began attacking their own side in fright.

"You fools," Riddle hissed menacingly. "It is merely a half-breed songstress! _Find her!_ There is no water here so she must be in the air."

As the dark forces focused on finding Delphine, she slowly flew back towards the Potter Shield. The chances of her getting hit were too high since her singing formed a concentration of magic that was easy to spot if one was experienced enough with it. Harry had warned her that Riddle was well-learned and well-traveled. It was definitely possible that he had come across one of her kind - or even her - in the past.

Sure enough, Riddle's spells began raining in too close to her, and she began flying faster.

Her song ended abruptly as a spell chipped the handle off her broom causing the broom to malfunction and go into an uncontrolled, downward spin. A wave of magic hit her from below to slow her precarious descent.

There was a moment where she thought she would be able to join her brethren on the ground.

Suddenly, she was hit by a dark curse of unknown origin and caught fire. She blacked out from the heat and immense pain before her emergency portkey took her from the battlefield.

Harry closed his eyes in obvious agony from the first casualty on their side of the battle.

His plan had been simple: draw out the enemy, destroy their hideout, and destroy the enemy. And all of this with no, and if at all minimal, casualties to their side.

 _Poor Delphine._ If he remembered correctly, she had a performance in Germany a few weeks. He hoped she wasn't cursed with anything irreversible.

He immediately clamped down on the fears and insecurities he felt rising so that he could focus on the task before him.

The Potter Shield flared suddenly as something moving unbelievably fast struck it multiple times from various angles. At some point, Henriette's voice could be heard screeching in every ear.

"Vampires? At this time of day?"

FC growled at the stupidity of the question. It was clear that dark magic was at work if werewolves were transforming without a full moon.

"Snipers! Get them off our arses!" Harry yelled into his spitset, straining to hold up the shield under the assault.

Apparently, the shield took its strength from the number of Potters it protected, but the brunt of any attacks to it was felt by the holder: Harry.

As this realization set in, the shield flickered at the spot right before Harry under heavy attack from the other side. Riddle concentrated most of his attacks on that one spot and many of his followers were doing the same.

A blanket of white magic suddenly appeared and floated down from the blue sky. It was held in place by four snipers, one in each corner - but their foes didn't see that.

It was a spell from the Black Family Grimoire on destroying undead creatures like vampires. It was usually tied into wards, but FC managed to deconstruct it and stabilize it without the ward components. As the white magic touched some of their enemies, especially the vampires, they were either immolated or fell to the ground stunned. While the Heavy-hitters were still attacking the wards to Riddle's manor, the Protectors took out any fallen vampires or enemies who had tried to fly over the shield.

Almost anticlimactic, the wards to the hideout shimmered and exploded silently in an array of colors.

Simultaneously, the anti-apparition and anti-portkey wards set up by the Snipers snapped into place.

"If you believe you will keep me with your feeble wards, Potter-."

"BOMBS AWAY!" Harry yelled into his spitset, cutting Riddle off even though the snake-man could not hear him. Harry wondered briefly how unsettling it must be to face an opponent you could not hear.

Upon his command, the Destroyers on brooms activated a second ward scheme before swiftly portkeying out to safety with the Snippers.

Riddle was agape. The explosion's magnitude shocked the man - if one could still call him that - into inaction.

With a simple wave of his second, Elder wand, Harry caused a thick layer of earth to slide over the Phalanx to protect them from the blast and debris from all sides. He hoped he had also managed to unseat his opponents as well.

After a few moments of debris crashing against his earthen shield, Harry returned everything back with another wave of his second wand.

Despite the effectiveness of the tactic, the blast had only somewhat thinned the number of their opponents. The army was still at least three or four times larger than the Potter army.

Riddle's magic exploded in an impressive display of rage. A shockwave of his magic furiously hit the Potter Shield, bringing Harry to his knees and creating a small hole in the, now, rosy shield.

As planned, FC and a few other Heavy-hitters took control of the shield while Harry recuperated. However, the Shield had flickered in and out of existence for too long, and three more Potters were felled by spellfire from their enemies. FC banished a stray werewolf who was clawing at them through the hole in the Shield into the burning embers of Riddle's hideout without a second thought.

Following FC's example, many began doing the same with their opponents to conserve energy.

Without warning, a cutting spell slipped through the opening in the shield and hit Harry in the chest just as he was righting himself. The force of the spell blasted him off his feet, but he did not disappear to Potter Manor like Delphine and the few others who had gotten hit with spells.

It was clear to all that Harry was prepared to carry through to the end.

Seeing Harry down, the Phalanx took another step forward and the invisible Protectors began spanning out to push their enemies into a circle. The Snipers and Destroyers rejoined the battle quickly and sped around their enemies while casting the most destructive spells into the midst of their enemies to keep them all busy and confused.

Harry removed the armor on his chest and cauterized the bleeding wound that stretched from his neck to his navel. With a grunt he got back to his feet, only to duck a stray spell from his own people.

He barely noticed it as he retook control of the Shield and sealed the hole in it.

Riddle seemed to have grasped the extent of their tactics as he began instructing part of his troops to shield, some to attack the Shield and others to shoot down the Potters on brooms. A few of the Snipers were shot down and were immediately portkeyed out. Unfortunately for Riddle, the realization came too late. His numbers had been thinned too meticulously to have the power to overwhelm the Shield.

Harry felt the turn of the battle upon them. It was clear that the end had to happen quickly. His last plan, his ultimate weapon was soon all he had in mind.

He stowed the Elder wand he had summoned from Dumbledore many weeks ago away and thrust a wandless hand towards the ground.

His magic thrummed around him like an adrenaline-filled soldier, even the Shield pulsed with a new energy as the Wilde Magik answered Harry's summon.

There was a near silent lull in the battle as the glow around Harry darkened and flashed. FC lay his hand on Harry's shoulder and Sirius did the same to him. A rumble began from deep within the ground as all those who touched him shared their magic, his magic, the Family Magik and the Wilde Magik around them.

"What magic is this!?" Riddle snarled as the earth once more moved underneath his feet. Assuming a repeat of the earth-sliding or worst, he launched himself into the air and fell under heavy spellfire from the Snipers and unknowingly flew directly into Harry's attack.

Harry struggled under the weight of so much magic, but he slowly lifted his hand to the sky and _summoned_.

Almost instantly, thousands of bolts of lightning rained down from the clear February sky towards Riddle's army. Harry struggled to control the lighting and keep it from striking the Potters on the ground or in the air. Many from both sides screamed in terror at the sudden light, loud claps of thunder and heat.

And within mere seconds, it was over.

Harry sagged from the buckling magnitude of the spell that had changed the very characteristics and electrical current of the earth around them. He had been the conductor of possibly the most powerful spell cast in time immemorial, and he felt as such. He had a feeling that Hermione would be feverishly reviewing the memory of the spell to adequately describe it in the Family Grimoire.

He shook and lifted his heavy head to see that Riddle had also been struck and lay twitching on the ground from the surprise elemental spell that had also disintegrated most of his troops.

The battlefield was no longer full of spellfire. The Potter Shield wavered, close to collapsing. Harry's stomach almost rebelled at the smell of burnt flesh and the tragic waste of so many lives.

Suddenly, Harry was pushed to the ground by someone from his side of the Shield. He went down hard and the wind was knocked out of him while the Potter Shield flickered for the last time out of existence.

The skin on Bill Weasley's face - and most likely the rest of his body - blackened, peeled off in shriveled strips and caught fire from the dark curse that was meant for Harry before he was portkeyed away.

Harry found himself unable to think. A hatred so strong pulsed through his entire being. Exhausted by the battle and the mere existence of Riddle, he merely summoned Riddle's yew wand - his last soul piece. The wand barely made it into his hands before he made it burst into flames. The unholy scream it gave snapped him back to reality.

As planned with FC, Harry called out to Fawkes as he slowly made his way through the field of burnt carcasses and remains of Riddles army with his family flanking him on all sides, checking for and putting down any of their surviving opponents.

The majestic bird appeared in a burst of flames, trilling an uplifting song.

"Thanks for coming, my friend. I need the sword." Fawkes gave him and the surrounding area a sharp look and before he flashed out.

Harry barely noticed the bird returning or the approaching of Aurors and reporters. He approached his still twitching foe with determined movements.

"You will never defeat me, Potter! You may have won this time, but I'll be back," the snack-faced bastard hissed, futilely trying to apparate out.

Harry didn't spare him a comment. He heaved the mighty Sword of Gryffindor, his birthright, over his shoulder and ended the life of one Tom Marvolo Riddle with a swift swing.

There was no cheering crowds or fireworks as Harry closed his eyes, feeling the weight of the battle slide from his shoulders. He slowly collapsed to his knees, bloody sword in hand and wept in joy.

Without warning, Harry keeled over, unconscious, spent and magically drained. When he awoke in the makeshift medical wing of his manor three days later, most of the celebration spirit had receded, although that was the last thing on his mind.

He turned to his worried and pregnant girlfriend sitting on the edge of his hospital bed.

"It's over Mione." He said simply.

She gave a teary laugh. "It's over. You did it."

Harry sighed, feeling worse than he looked. "No, but _we_ did it." He corrected her. "We did it."

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* * *

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"And that, my children is the story of Lord Henry Potter and the Downfall of Voldemort."

The 153-year-old Dowager Hermione Potter finished the tale she had told many times before, however this time to a new batch of Potters. She loved talking about the Family history especially the history she had experienced first-hand. She just wished her beloved Harry were still around to tell the stories with her like they used to do. His passing three years prior had hit her pretty hard.

 _His portrait doesn't do him justice,_ she thought sadly.

"Grandmama?" One of the youngest of the bunch asked, having listened to her tell the story of their former Lord of their House for the past hours. "The history books say that Grandpa Harry did it all alone."

Hermione sighed. It was true, and those historical retellings of the battle had driven Harry up the wall.

"Many of the authors of those books were not even born at the time. Most wanted to make your grandpa into some sort of supernatural hero, and it is not true. Harry was many things - brave, powerful, intelligent and often courageous, but he was also only human."

The child gaped at her. It was clear that he too idolized his… Well, Hermione wasn't quite sure how the sandy-haired boy was related to Harry or even her. He seemed to be of the Longbottom blood.

 _Did one of Neville's marry into the Potter family again?_

It was a running family joke that Neville had never wanted his children to marry Harry's, yet there seemed to be a new Potter-Longbottom wedding every generation or so.

 _That's what happens when you have eight children! Poor Hannah Longbottom. I don't know how she managed._

Potter Manor had grown into a hub for Potters worldwide after their defeat of Riddle. Even more than a century after the battle, the manor housed over a hundred Potters and relatives. Harry had even spent a large fortune on expanding the manor some decades ago into a small castle so that everyone who wanted to live there could do so comfortably.

 _He always wanted a big family. I don't think even_ he _knew how he was related to everyone despite his liberal use of Family Magik!_

The Potter family had grown by leaps and bounds. Many of the older generation who lived under or remembered the tyranny of Lord Hardwin Potter, Harry's great-great-grandfather had been happy to leave England and escape from him. Harry's Lordship, his fame and endless dedication to his family had reversed the exodus, mentally and physically.

Hermione only wished that she could have provided him with more than two sons.

After Davy, their youngest was born in 2000, their family mediwitch revealed that the difficult pregnancy had been their last. It had broken Harry's heart. His dream had been to have enough children to make a Potter-only Quidditch team. _T_ _o compete with Neville most likely_. He never said anything but words of comfort to her when the topic had come up, but she knew it had torn him apart.

He made up for the lack of children by showering the two they had with even more love and affection. There were times where Hermione even felt like a proverbial third or fourth wheel in their immediate family due to the bond between her boys, but she had never spoken a word of it to Harry about it.

"Grandma Mione," spoke another child, Gordon Jr. His relation to her was much less ambiguous since he was the son of her great-nephew Gordon Black-Potter. "Can you tell another story, please?"

Hermione took a look at the time. It was way past all of their bedtimes. She was feeling every bit her age today, and more tired than she had ever felt in her entire life.

A small pang of fear suddenly hit her in a moment of extreme clarity. She had a suspicion of what her increasing lethargy meant.

"Not tonight, you lot!" She said as cheery as possible to hide the knot of mixed emotions that filled her suddenly. "Tomorrow, I will tell you the story of your Grandpa Harry's year as a professor-."

"The one where you turned him into a talking chicken for a week for interrupting your History classes?" A young girl with obvious Weasley-Potter heritage - _and maybe a hint of Malfoy or Lovegood_ , Hermione noted mentally, taking in the girl's bright and silver eyes - asked excitedly.

Hermione gave the girl a soft smile and promised, "The very same! Now, off you trot! We don't want your parents to be angry." She said shooing the group of chattering and groaning children from her sitting room and leaning back in her chair.

Her hand strained slightly as she held a glass of water, and she slowly swallowed the remaining gulps.

When the last of the 17 children - she had counted - departed with a cheery "Goodnight Grandma", Hermione immediately went to her pensieve and began extracting her memories from her head.

She had lived a fruitful life with Harry, and their pensieve had been full of great memories by the time of his passing.

Most had assumed that Harry would go into politics or teach immediately after defeating of Voldemort, but Harry had desired to see the world with his new family and learn of magics not previously known to him. Hermione had been more than happy to oblige with her own unyielding thirst for knowledge.

After talking to Headmistress McGonagall, the then Headmistress of Hogwarts Institute of Witchcraft and Wizardry, the two newlyweds postponed their OWLs and NEWTs and took their leave of the UK.

They had traveled the globe for nearly a decade with both of their sons being born abroad - Sebastian Henry in Russia and David Virgil in South Africa. Those were magnificent days of adventure and research. The books she and Harry published on their interactions with esoteric magic from across the globe upon their return to England were _still_ filling the Potter coffers.

A content smile filled her aged face as she briefly relived those moments while extracting the memories.

After enrolling Sebastian in Hogwarts, she and Harry took their OWLs and NEWTs together. Harry had managed one OWL more than she did and never let her forget it. She blamed the scoring on starstruck favoritism from the Geomagic examiners. She got him back by besting him with a double Outstanding for her Magical History NEWT.

A few tears rolled down her cheeks as she remembered the hilarious academic competitiveness that quickly became a large part of their relationship. She would publish a paper only to have Harry publish one that either refuted her thesis or topped her paper with an exciting new topic. She had responded in the like by doing the same to his publications. Their competition got so fierce one year that Harry even moved the Lady's Study _overnight_ to the opposite side of the manor, and as far from the Family library as possible just to anger her!

 _I'm sure he enjoyed the remodeling I did of his study. He never did appreciate the color pink as he should have!_

She rubbed the tears and tiredness from her eyes. There was one last task she had to complete.

Her memories of the next few years were more studies related. She had gone on to get her Mastery in Magical History and Esoteric Magics at Hogwarts. Harry, happy to again go against all expectations, became a stay-at-home father to Davy and homeschooled their youngest. He declined all jobs offers - whether from the Unspeakables, the Defense League of the ICW, Hogwarts or elsewhere. He spent his time delving as deep as he could into Wild Magik, often using the manor's wardstones as foci.

Harry was easily the most powerful sorcerer - his legendary use of wordless, wandless and magic based purely on intent had made him the youngest sorcerer alive – of his generation and the number of foes he gained increased with time.

Harry and many other Potters had single-handedly brought down some of the darkest wizards and witches of their time. However famous the Potters became for their actions, they rarely attacked as a group unless they were attacked first. Besides Hogwarts, Potter Manor gradually became the safest place in the UK. No one dared to attack the Potters for fear of retribution.

 _It also might have had something to do with the dragons that keep mysteriously showing up around the manor. I'm happy Harry didn't listen to me and sign the dragon reserve over to the ICW._

By the time she had finished her studies, Sebastian had left Hogwarts to travel the world a bit on his own, and Davy was in his third year. She started teaching in Davy's fifth year and retired nearly a century later.

When both of the boys had left the nest, Harry found his passion in politics and actively threw himself into it. Stirring up confusion in the ICW with his revolutionary ideas became his favorite past-time. He pushed for a more modern and inclusive world while never losing sight of his morals, vision or authenticity. He complained rarely and usually only about the Wizengamot or its Chief Wizard Draco Malfoy.

Much to her surprise, and up to the day of his death, Harry maintained a rather odd friendship with both Bill Weasley and Draco Malfoy. Hermione assumed that Harry had enjoyed the fact that neither man worshiped the ground he walked on and were never anything but brutally honest with him. Hermione had often found it funny to watch the three bicker like little children about everything from Quidditch to politics to whose children were smarter. She did not, however, spend time with their respective wives as societal code mandated, preferring the comfort of her books to the cold niceties.

Henriette Malfoy reigned as a Pureblood Queen and took over as Lady of the Dark after Lady Black passed away and Dowager Malfoy disappeared seemingly into thin air. Hermione had her suspicions about what happened to the blond woman since Charlie Weasley disappeared at the same time, but it never interested her enough to find out the truth. She was absolutely certain that Harry had had something to do with Dowager Malfoy's disappearance, especially since he and Draco Malfoy became closer afterwards.

Nevertheless, Henriette had never forgiven her or Harry for her imprisonment and dethroning all those years ago, and she took to avoiding them at all costs. Hermione saw her once or twice a year at the yearly Potter or Black Gathering and barely spoke more than a sentence to the wicked woman.

Hermione was thrilled that Henriette gave birth to her three children much later than Hermione had. It reduced the amount of contact on that level as well, though the children had been very well-behaved in her classes.

Bill Weasley… Hermione wasn't too sure whether or not his rather bland and insipid wife knew of the _partnership_ he had with Sirius and Severus - she and Severus had been colleagues for years during her tenure as Professor and later Head of the History Department at Hogwarts so she had the honor to use his first name, even though he called her Granger until he passed away. Frankly, Hermione despised the narrow-minded Rosemary Weasley and could care less whether or not the woman realized her only use to her husband had been her childbearing and child-rearing capabilities.

 _DING DING DING_

The clock in her sitting room struck midnight.

Hermione gave a deep yawn as she extracted the last of her memories.

She slowly took a seat and a few pieces of parchment to put her affairs in order. Harry had already passed on the Peverell Lordship and Slytherin title to Sebastian on their son's twenty-fifth birthday since Sebastian had pursued a career in politics and since Harry had "no interest in dealing with the stagnant, old hags and codgers anymore".

Davy had received the honored Potter Lordship and the Gryffindor title from his father after he became the youngest headmaster ever of Hogwarts at age 40. It was rather interesting to work for her younger son, but the two of them found their way and worked together for over sixty years with minimum issues.

She and Harry both had favored Davy. His caring and carefree personality matched his father's more so than his brother's calculating and ambitious personality, probably due to the years the two spent together alone while she and Sebastian were studying at Hogwarts. They loved both sons the same, but it was clear to all that they and the rest of the Potters wanted Davy as their next Head of House.

Hermione chewed her lip. If she passed on the Dagworth-Granger Lordship to Davy, it would most likely cause a rift between him and Sebastian.

 _Oh, I'm silly!_ Hermione remembered quickly that Harry passed on the Black Lordship to Sebastian as well after Sebastian's wife Maria Potter neé Longbottom (the first and most hilarious of the Potter-Longbottom weddings) gave birth to a third son. Hermione quickly pinned that tidbit of information in her last message to the family before she formally bequeathed the Dagworth-Granger Lordship to Davy.

She sealed each of the letters with magic before addressing them to Gringotts and her sons.

In a swirl of flames, Fawkes appeared before her with a soft and sad thrill, expectant and anticipating her wishes as always.

"Indeed, old friend." She said patting his head and gave him the letters. "The time has come. Could you please take these letters to Gringotts and deliver the others when… when I'm gone?"

Fawkes gave another sad trill with a nod of acknowledgment. He suddenly pointed with his beak to the wall where her fireplace was and where Harry's portrait was hanging, now asleep.

It took a moment before she caught on.

She summoned the legendary Death Stick from its concealed hiding spot in his frame, the wand that both Dumbledore and Harry had ironically used against Voldemort. With a small shudder from the amount of sentience and power in the wand, she handed it to Fawkes.

After he secured the wand in his beak, she gave him one last instruction. "Please ensure that it falls into the hands of someone worthy enough of wielding it."

Fawkes nodded once more and disappeared his burden.

 _Sebastian will not be happy that he didn't get it._

Before she got ready for bed, she turned back to her pensieve and extracted two memories. One held the story she promised to tell the children tomorrow. Luckily, she had told most of her stories multiple times to different groups of Potter children so she had several versions to choose from. She placed the memory in a vial with shaky fingers and quickly penned a note that the children should be allowed to view memory tomorrow night before bed and that other stories could be found in the pensieve.

The second memory she put directly into her head.

A bright smile lit up on her face as she laid herself down to sleep.

She had always known that Harry had been the one to initiate their first kiss in the Lord's Study all those years ago. She had waited 137 years for the proof, and she couldn't wait to tell him she had been right when she saw him again soon!*

With that mission in mind, she drifted off to a well-deserved and peaceful rest.

The next morning her body was found by their house elves with a small bright smile on her wrinkled face.

Although he mourned when he heard the sad news, Lord David Virgil Potter was happy that his parents were reunited once more. After looking through some of their memories, he quickly found the right quote to engrave on their headstone:

 _Here rests Lord Henry James (our beloved Harry) and Lady Hermione Jane (our beloved Mione). Their eternal love remains forever a symbol of the true power of the Potters._

Fin

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*See the end of Chapter 15 for the memory Hermione is referring to.

Phew! This was possibly the hardest - and longest - chapter I ever had to write. I was going to post the epilogue in a separate chapter, but you've all waited long enough. So, consider it my gift to you for your reviews and dedication :)

I would like to take this time to thank the following reviewers for their thorough and extensive responses to my story: **teedub** \- if there were such a thing as a literary review here, I would have loved to have you as a critic. **Atmyer** your comments gave me multiple ideas for a new story, thank you. A special shout out to **Death Day Party Planner** and **Sandra** whose wonderful questions fed my muse!

Many thanks to my awesome beta **Marc the Unruly** as well!

Thank you all for bearing with me over the course of this story and for your reviews. I think I will take a bit of time now to fix my other stories before starting another new one, so don't expect a sequel or spinoff for this story from me before the other stories are finished. Let me know if you would like to beta one of them!

That being said, if someone would like to use the characters and anything else I came up with to write a spin-off to this story, please let me know. I would love to read it! Soon, I will post another chapter here with a list of all of the Potters that I mentioned in this story and a bit of information to each to help out the brave authors who wish to take up the challenge!

Peace and love


	19. The Potter Family Tree (Abridged)

**The Potter Family Tree**

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 **.**

 **Leopold Potter (the First Potter)**  
b. 1271  
d. 1428  
w. 1285  
w. 1290  
w. 1331

The Potters received through the politicking of Leopold and the courageous, final actions of his youngest son, Arwas Potter, the status of Noble and a seat on the Wizards Council. Leopold married three times and had a number of legitimate and illegitimate children by the time of his death.

 **Leopold Potter II**  
b. 1355  
L. 1428 (Achieved Lordship in 1428)  
d. 1490  
w. 1370  
\- **Alviva Eva Potter** neé Weasley | b. 1357 | d. 1490  
Leopold Potter II was one of six children from his mother and was the brother of the famous mage, Arwas Potter. He was knighted by the squib King Henry IV of England after helping Henry Bolingbroke capture and imprison the incumbent King Richard, and again in 1420 to successfully preventing the poison of Henry V by his stepmother, Joan of Navarre, and two Spanish wizards. Leopold built the original Potter Hall in 1405 and commissioned its refurbishment in 1420.

 **Linfred Potter**  
b. 1756.05.21  
L. 1796  
w. 1796 (wedded in 1796)  
\- **Ingeborg Potter** neé von der Lynn | b. 1779.06.01  
Linfred - or Linny to his loved ones - had one sister, three brothers (including Cygnius Potter), three aunts, four uncles, 19 cousins, 31 second cousins, nine nieces and nephews, eight grandnieces and grandnephews, and 44 other relatives at the time of his and their deaths in the Potter Fire of 1883.

 _(Linfred's three sons)_

 **Ralston Potter I**  
b. 1800.09.07.  
w. 1820  
\- **Euphemia Potter** neé Fleamont | b. 1805.03.09.  
Ralston was a well-known respected member of the Wizengamot, had 6 children, 11 grandchildren as of his and their deaths in the Potter Fire of 1883.

 **Henry Potter**  
b. 1797.01.01.  
d. 1883  
A researcher, Unspeakable in England, who researched time, paradoxes, dimensions and prophecies. Henry remained unmarried until his death at the wand of his brother Hardwin Potter after the Potter Fire of 1883 and is Henry (Harry) Potter's namesake.

 **Hardwin Potter**  
b. 1818.05.02.  
d. 1930  
L. 1884  
w. 1883  
\- **Iolanthe Potter** neé Peverell | b. 1852.09.30. | d. 1910

Hardwin had 6 daughters (Doyenne, Regina, Annabelle, Henrietta and Francine, Elizabeth), all of which he married off to affluent and rich foreign families by 1914. Hardwin was a harsh, calculating and cold man to family and foe alike. His demeanor isolated the Potters from English nobles especially due to his questionable part in the Potter Fire of 1883. His wife had three miscarriages along with her eleven successful pregnancies. He never forgave her for costing him three, vital heirs.

 _(Hardwin's five sons)_

 **Hardwin Potter Jr.**  
b. 1884.06.01.  
d. 1930  
Hardwin Jr. was the Heir Presumptive until he fell in love with Louis Montero. A rebel and rather spoiled first-born, he was his father's favorite but could not cope with the strictness and constraints of the Potter Heirship. His father excommunicated him after he ran off with the older wizard at age 20 and retracted Hardwin's heirship and birthright. Hardwin Jr. had no children, and his death remains a mystery even though his partner was implicated as an accomplice to his murder and sent to Azkaban. It was rumored that he and his father killed one another in a bloody brawl.

 **Percival Hermann Potter**  
b. 1900.10.01.  
w. 1931  
\- **Annabelle Potter** neé Hollingsworth | b. 1910.10.30.  
Percival Hermann - called PH by his loved ones - and his wife lived in the USA. Since a birth defect left him infertile, the two had no biological children, and PH was prohibited from becoming Lord Potter. They blood-adopted eight boys (rescued the triplets Feiro, Amario, and Jothario) and girls, who had 19 children and 4 grandchildren. PH was an artist.

 **Lester Lloyd Potter**  
b. 1910.05.10.  
w. 1935  
- **Charlotte-Marie Potter** neé de Sade | b. 1920.03.14.  
Lester Lloyd - called LL by his loved ones - had two sons, one daughter -Delphine, 9 grandchildren, 12 great-grandchildren and one great-great-grandchild. They lived in the Potter French Villa in Bourgogne.

 **Charlus Linfred Potter**  
b. 1901.07.31.  
L. 1931  
d. 1960  
w. 1930  
\- **Madeline Potter** neé Lovegood | b. 1905.06.06. | d. 1960  
Charlus Potter was a famous orator and, even more so, a better businessman. He was fair but was obviously more interested in securing the prosperity of future generations of Potters. His famous wife, due to a spell-crafting incident, was only able to bear him one child. It is rumored that a glancing spell from the Dark Lord Grindelwald himself in the First Wizarding War left Charlus with a painful limp for the rest of his life.

 **Charles James Potter**  
b. 1931.06.04.  
d. 1979  
L. 1960  
w. 1951  
\- **Dorea Aurora Potter** neé Black | b. 1932.04.03. | d. 1979  
Charles Potter was quite often mistaken for his father. He was a precocious politician and, much like his father, a talented orator. Both father and son had the Potter Lordship thrust upon them at a young age and fought in one of the two Wizarding Wars. After his controversial marriage to the "Black Beauty", he withdrew from the spotlight to raise his only son, James.

 **James Hardwin Potter**  
b. 1960.27.03.  
d. 1981  
L. 1981  
w. 1980  
\- **Lily Marie Potter** neé Evans | b. 1960.31.07. | d. 1981  
James Potter was a transfiguration prodigy and his wife a Charm Mistress. He - like his father and grandfather - had the Potter Lordship pushed upon him and died young. James was the father of Henry (Harry) James Potter.

 **Henry (Harry) James Potter**  
b. 1980.31.07.  
d. 2129  
L. 1995  
w. 1996.10.10.  
\- **Hermione Jean Potter** née Granger (Dagworth-Granger) | b. 1979.19.09. | d. 2132  
The "HJPs" were the most famous couple of the 20th, 21st and 22nd centuries due to their academic, political, and magical prowess. They were often compared to Charlus and Madeline by many of that generation. By the time of his wife's death, both had been honored with nearly every award that could be given. February 11th was internationally deemed Harry Potter Day for his defeat of the Dark Lord Voldemort. They had two sons, seven grandchildren, and many descendants.

 **~~~~~~~~~~~~ This story included mostly the Australian Potters, from Virgil Potter's lineage, listed below:**

 **Virgil Orville Potter**  
b. 1905.02.14.  
d. 1995  
w. 1930  
\- **Sarah Elisabeth Potter** neé de Coronó | b. 1905.01.05. | d. 1985  
Virgil lived in the Potter Country Home in Melbourne, Australia. He was deemed the Greatest Potter of their age by his great-great-nephew, Harry Potter.

 **Daniel Norman Potter**  
b. 1932.12.25.  
w. 1951  
\- **Andrea Potter** neé Thomas | b. 1933.01.02. | d. 1961  
Daniel had two daughters, Sarah and Bea, both with two daughters of their own. Sarah lived in Sweden, Bea in Canada. He was a son of Virgil Potter.

 **Orville Jonas Potter**  
b. 1951.12.02.  
w. 1978  
\- **Joan Potter** neé Smith | b. 1952.03.25.  
Orville - called OJ by his loved ones - was a mathematician and Master Arithmancer. He was a son of Daniel Norman Potter.

 **Jonas Gascon Potter**  
b. 1980.01.01.  
Jonas was a finances and economics whiz for both the magical and non-mag worlds. Very boastful, hot-headed, and jealous of Harry due to the Lordship. His jealousy led him to betray his family to the Dark Lord Voldemort. His deceit led to the death of his grandfather as well as his and his father's excommunication from the family. He was the son of Orville Jonas Potter.

 **Calder Potter**  
b. 1961.01.02.  
w. 1991  
\- **Petra Potter** neé Adams | b. 1970.08.30.  
Calder was a son of Daniel Norman Potter.

 **Hadrian Potter  
** **Charlie Potter  
** b. 1991.09.09.  
* twin sons of Calder Potter

 **Perry Potter**  
 **Lester Potter**  
b. 1993.10.19.  
* twin sons of Calder Potter

 **Andrew Edgar Potter**  
b. 1930.12.24.  
d. 1985  
w. 1963  
\- **Sarah Potter** neé Parker | b. 1929.02.23.  
Andrew was a son of Virgil Potter

 **Michael Bryant Potter**  
b. 1965.03.18.  
w. 1986  
\- **Quinn Potter** neé Black | b. 1966.09.19.  
Michael was a son of Andrew Edgar Potter.

 **Joey Potter**  
 **John Potter**  
b. 1988.09.30.  
* identical twin sons of Michael Bryant Potter.

 **Jasmine Potter**  
b. 1989.10.19.  
Jasmine Potter became an internationally recognized and respected Seer. She pioneered the combination of Mind Magic and Seer abilities to lessen the pain of Seeing for future generations. Jasmine was the daughter of Michael Bryant Potter.

 **Andrew Edgar Jr.**  
b. 1967.04.25.  
w. 1996.09.10  
\- **Mauve Potter** neé de la Cruz  
Mauve's family is on the Veela Council. Andrew and Mauve lived on the French Estate until they married in Potter Manor a day before Harry and Hermione. Mauve remained Hermione's closest friend and confidant for most of their lives. Andrew was a son of Andrew Edgar Potter Sr.

 **Cassius Henry Potter**  
b. 1963.05.19.  
d. 1986  
w. 1981  
\- **Alexandra Potter** neé Rosier | b. 1964.06.07.  
Cassius was a son of Andrew Edgar Potter Sr.

 **Henriette Marie Malfoy** neé Potter  
b. 1981.11.01.  
Henriette was named after both Harry and her father, Cassius Henry Potter. Though it was predicted that she and Harry would marry, her actions and ambitions prevented it. Harry married her off to his former school rival, Draco Lucius Malfoy. Her relationship with Harry remained brittle til the end of their lives.

 **Garvan Arnold Potter**  
b. 1970.12.30.  
Garvan was known for his dislike of Harry. This never changed. Garvan was a son of Andrew Edgar Potter Sr.

 **Franklin Cecil Potter**  
b. 1940.09.06.  
A famous Australian Unspeakable, Head of Department of Magical Research, Franklin - called FC by his loved ones - became Harry's favorite and closest cousin. He never married. FC was a son of Virgil Potter.

 **Milton Arnold Potter**  
b. 1943.05.01.  
w. 1978  
\- **Nadia Potter** neé Shaan | b. 1948.12.09.  
Milton was a famous Law Wizard and Professor. He never enjoyed England much but visited Hogwart's Institute of Witchcraft and Wizardry as a guest professor often at Hermione's request. He was a son of Virgil Potter.

 **Mari Potter**  
 **Adna Potter**  
 **Maya Potter**  
b. 1980.12.21  
* triplets who lived in India with their parents.

 **.**

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**

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 **Please note: this is not an epilogue!**

There are my family notes that went into crafting this story as promised in the previous chapter. It was important to me to be as thorough as possible and to give as many characters as possible a bit of personality. Unfortunately, FF destroyed the tree structure, so I hope you are still able to figure out who is who. This is also an abridged tree to show the relationship between the characters who were active in the story, therefore it starts with Leopold Potter I (the First Potter) and does not go into the Potters before him.

Once I begin creating other stories in this universe (I really like the idea of Henriette and Harry getting together, but with focus on a different side of the family, where the two become Dark Wizards... :P ), I will most likely still use this genealogy as the foundation.

This will be the last post for this story, but if someone (including myself) decides to write a story, I might post a note here to give everyone a heads-up!

Peace and Love!


	20. Chapter 20: The Ballad of Love

AN: I just _had_ to write this. This story has received over 500k views and nearly 800 reviews. I still can't believe it!

What baffled me, even more, was the outpour of sympathy for Delphine Potter's fate - of all of the characters mentioned or developed... Well, I'm happy to oblige! I hope you all enjoy my appreciation of your response to my story! For **ThunderSphinx**!

* * *

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 **Chapter Twenty: The Ballad of Love**

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 _Three hours of makeup spells..._

It had taken Delphine three hours of heavy makeup to resume the appearance she had taken for granted for far too long. Her silken skin and Merlin-sculpted face had once driven men insane. Now her arms, her neck and her face were covered in more makeup than could be considered comfortable.

Even the sleeveless gown she wore sat uncomfortably on her as it rubbed against the many layers of magical concealer.

To some extent, she missed the days where "less is more" still applied to her. On the other hand, it was merely a part of her daily regime now. She barely paid it more any more thought than she would brushing her teeth.

 _You never know what you had until it's gone_ , she thought to herself. The English saying slid through her mind like the slimy, parasitic remnant of a bad dream.

The lights around the stage focused on the center as the Dutch announcer entered the stage to introduce the violinist, Master Yuuki Fukui- simply known as Yuuki - from Japan.

The announcer, an unremarkable and stout wizard of little musical talent, blandly introduced the Japanese wizard to the crowds who had come for the 122nd International Magic in Music concert in Brussels.

She and Yuuki, a rather attractive yet unpleasantly silent and unhappy man, had unofficially dueled for the top prize at the international concert for the last six years. If Delphine managed to trump him again, she would be the longest reigning winner _ever_ by two years.

Yet another award for her career. If she were still the young, starry-eyed girl she had been before her disfigurement, she would be bursting with nervous excitement. For some reason, she couldn't bring herself to care as much about her accolades nowadays.

The prize - a rather insignificant amount of galleons and a large trophy - would be rightfully hers regardless.

She had managed to diversify her repertoire so successfully over the last few years that it was almost expected that she would win again. Her native French and even some international newspapers had been presumptively hailing her as the "Pre-Winner for 1997" since the beginning of the year.

Her music came from a magical, spiritual place deep within her soul, and, even to her, it was scarily transcendental, revealing and boundless. Sometimes, she couldn't truly look within herself unless she stood on a stage. She found that her nervousness of singing competitions and her instinctual stage fright added the extra emotional tinge to her music that had guaranteed her international success since she made her breakthrough in '88.

 _And I probably will win again if Yuuki doesn't stop making the judges feel so depressed with his music,_ she thought to herself. _No one should feel so down in the summer_!

She had composed a few pop ballads with the best songwriters in both the magical and non-magical music industries over the last few months. The songs were going over quite well with the masses at the moment. Her chosen medley for the concert was a melodious mix of her latest hits.

She considered it a definite shame that Yuuki rarely attempted to connect with the audience or the latest trends in music. He was the Weird Sisters or the Fanged Dragons of the classical genre - good for loyal fans but stubbornly stagnant. Yet, his talent in captivating audiences rivaled her own. She would have enjoyed the serious competition if he weren't so much of an emotional vomiter.

 _I wish he weren't such a private person. I would love to know the person beneath his music._

His tremulous melody suddenly halted her thoughts. She found herself suddenly listening more intently to his music than ever before. A particularly depressing chord from Yuuki's violin suddenly struck her deeply.

She closed her eyes in temporary agony. She could feel his cry to be loved, to be accepted, mixed with an anguish of constant failure to find someone to love him. Maybe she was just translating his music into her own anguish?

Delphine let the music wash over and through her. She, too, longed for someone to see the person behind her beautiful - and she had no doubt of her talent - voice. It was as if Yuuki were playing her very heartstrings. The deep, hidden ache in her heart was simultaneously being laid bare for everyone and no one by a mere stranger.

Since her injury during the Final Battle and defeat of the Dark Lord Tom Riddle nearly two years prior, Delphine had barely paused to reflect on the impact her full body burns had on her psyche. Fire had a horrible effect on sirens and their descendants, and she had been hit by a dark fire curse so powerful during the battle that she missed her own concert two weeks afterward. She had remained in a magic-induced coma for a month.

No amount of potions, spells or Family Magik could reverse the scarring over one-third of her body. That she had removed all but one of the numerous mirrors in her apartment, that she rarely went into public without multiple charms to mask the scars on her body, she had simply accepted in the months thereafter. No more thought was given to either the concealment routine or why she felt the need to hide the scars.

Her family, especially her ever-observant Lord Potter, had noticed the drop in her spirit. Henry had offered to pay for her therapy or magical corrective surgery to make up for her sacrifice for the Family. The offer was futile though. Nothing could be done for magical burns of that scale. His noble sentiments had also hit her too hard. In the dark days that followed her coming out of the coma, she had wanted to blame him - to blame _someone_ \- for her disfigurement, for her impending life changes. Henry's authentic pain and commiseration on her behalf had been so tangible, however, that it alone had moved her to tears.

Yuuki's music swelled in a flood of piercing melancholic notes. She could hear a stagehand sniffling near her.

 _Master of Melancholy indeed_ , she thought to herself as her dark thoughts engulfed her once more.

Her beauty was once a thing of marvel. It had rivaled that of her half-breed, fiery cousins in spirit, the Veela. Unlike the Veela, however, Delphine's beauty was more genetic rather than magical. Her maternal great-grandmother had been a half-siren of unknown origin.

It was clear to Delphine that her talents were at least partially inherited during her youth. And her reaction to fire had always proved such. She had spent much of her young adult years searching for sirens and trying to understand, release and train her siren-inherited talents. She had learned then the reason for her childhood aversion to fire.

Her musical success since then - since she had unlocked that key aspect of herself - had been unstoppable. She had sung before Europe's magical nobility, before the richest families in the world and more government banquets than she could count. She was considered a star in Magical Musicology. She was the songstress most rated a must-hear by international publications. Celestina Warbeck had even offered to take her on tour multiple times.

Delphine had been smart enough to reject the gracious offers. Warbeck's fame was overwhelming, and Delphine would have been perpetually in the witch's shadow. The older witch still received much more airplay in Europe - except in Delphine's native France - than Delphine.

 _Mostly because of her obnoxious banshee backup singers!_

Delphine's parents had been most supportive of her decision not to tour with Warbeck and her career decisions altogether. Somehow they had managed to simultaneously push her to challenge the status quo and kept her grounded despite her aspirations and her youthful arrogance.

Endorsements and accolades had rained down on her endlessly. She had almost let the fame get to her, and then she responded to her Lord's summons. She had thought then that she was invincible.

The pain of her flesh _burning_ was all she remembered of that day. The phantom, nightmarish pain still woke her up randomly at night.

The lull of the applauding crowd reoriented her. She counted backward from 20 to steady herself.

 _Here comes another stellar performance_ , she calmly told herself.

Her father had once said the same to her before her first large debut. She had repeated his words before every single performance since, and they had definitely brought her luck. She dedicated much of her success to his faith in her.

"I wish you much," a quiet voice said in slightly broken English, startling her out of her reverie.

In the darkness of the backstage, Delphine's easily identified Yuuki's remarkable face.

 _Such a beautiful man with such a solemn soul._

"Thank you," she murmured back.

"Do dry your face before." He said carefully before he turned and continued on his way with his violin held protectively close to his heart.

Delphine automatically wiped her face. To her surprise, tears wet her cheeks. Normally, her concealer and spells hid it all so well…

No one had been able to see her cry in so long.

 _But how…_

"Wait! Wait, please!" She called after the Japanese violinist, who immediately stopped. "You can see _me -_ my...?"

"Of course. I have _always_ been able to see you."

That simple truth broke her walls so quickly that she shivered from the metaphorical overexposure.

Her voice caught her throat.

 _All this time..._

He had never treated her differently in any of their casual meetings or the celebrations that they had attended together. He had never even hinted that he could see beneath the mask she had carefully sculpted around herself for her image.

A roar of cheering erupted from the crowds as her name was announced. The crowds quieted down somewhat after the announcer's sonoroused voice quieted with a simple Finite.

Delphine couldn't move.

A deeper meaning of Yuuki's words flitted through her mind. _"I have always been able to see you."_

"Your music?" She asked simply. Fresh tears already rolling down her face in the premonition of his next words.

"Yes." He answered carefully, as if apprehensive about her reaction. Yuuki had been trying to reach her with his music all this time.

Her name was being called out by stagehands and a wave of whispers bubbled up beyond the curtains.

Her internal debate lasted mere seconds, but it felt like a lifetime to her. Her magic careened around her as she made possibly the biggest decision of her life.

Yuuki, quiet and solemn, merely approached her, reached out with a weird comfortably hand and gently pressed hers.

No words were needed from his side.

Delphine's magic settled suddenly while she raised her head and dried her tears.

A stagehand called out to her in a confused whisper.

"Join me." She requested simply, grasping his hand like a lifeline. A fear like none other she had ever experienced swept through her, and Yuuki was possible the only other person who knew her deepest despair.

He did nothing but hold her hand tighter as she dispelled her concealment spells, spelling away some of her heavy make-up and pulled him towards the confused crowd.

She closed her eyes before the curtain was pulled back.

A collective gasp arose from the audience. Whether it was from her appearance, Yuuki's presence or their holding hands, she could not tell.

As the whispers rose around them, Yuuki carefully positioned her hand behind his neck so that he could hold his violin and began playing something so magical that Delphine swayed.

 _Here comes another stellar performance_ , she repeated to herself once more.

She opened her eyes and looked into Yuuki's dark brown and deeply emotional eyes.

"Your beauty comes from within." He said leaning forward for a chaste kiss on her lips.

She did not hear the reaction of the crowd. Her mouth opened absent-mindedly from the surprising kiss and an unknown aria of so many emotions burst from her lips.

Their musical instruments joined as one before the unprepared crowd of thousands. People rocked in their seats, clutched at the loved ones in the seats near them and even cried openly. The hairs rose everywhere as two souls bore what they had and complemented each other so melodiously.

Delphine's magic reached out to Yuuki's much like her hand stayed on his shoulder throughout the entirety of the nearly 10-minute duet.

Just as they reached the end of their spiritual improvisation, Yuuki's warm magic accepted hers. Delphine didn't even notice his violin stop playing as his magic joined and wrapped around hers. A long, crescendo of unaccompanied high notes full of pure joy and content brought the crowds to their feet before the last note and the song had even officially ended.

The two stood on stage, heaving for breath from the musical and magical exertion while the world went wild around them. Flowers and small tokens rained on the two, and the prize for the _winners_ of that year's International Magic in Music concert was brought out before the two could even bow. The other concert singers applauded enthusiastically in the first rows.

Delphine and Yuuki could only look at one another and smile.

"No one could have known at that moment that the two world-class musicians had all but magically bonded before them, sharing something so private, genuine and unprecedented with the world," one commentator stated in a raving review of Delphine Potter's _revelation_ the following day.

Their duet became known simply as the Ballad of Love. It was considered the Song of the Millennium and the breakthrough for both musicians, sending them directly into the annals of musical history in the international magical community. Both Yuuki and Delphine's careers became boundless and full of awards even though they both rarely performed live thereafter, tending only to play at Potter Gatherings or the celebrations of their dearest friends and family.

Although Yuuki and Delphine never sang the Ballad of Love again, it brought tears to Delphine's eyes whenever she heard it - and it was played often in the years following the performance.

To her, their anthem of love was more than a power ballad. It was the beginning of her relationship with her wonderful husband. In the three years following the concert, they had two marvelous children who Delphine always saw as a direct product of their love.

She was seen as a heroine to many a generation of women for her courage and strength to show her disfigurement openly, especially when it became public knowledge that her disfigurement had been a result of her courageous actions during the Final Battle of the British Blood Wars.

In the time following her revelation, Yuuki tended to cancel her concealment spells immediately and without a comment whenever she applied them accidentally. After a few years of this loving treatment, she never felt the need to conceal her appearance again.

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 _Fin_

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Sigh… short and sweet. This chapter is unbetaed so review/message me any blatant errors you find.

I have begun working on a Harry/Henriette fic with a much darker tone, the same family tree and a slower moving plot. You can expect it late summer 2018, and I'm sure you will enjoy it! I will leave a message here when its ready!

Xaipe


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